Harry Potter: Grimoire Chronicles
by Ronnel no Fenniksu
Summary: At an early age, Harry finds a mysterious book that will change everything as he knows it. How will he deal with a book that enables him to use strange magic? Eventual HPxHG, will take time though. See Author's Note at end for better summary.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:**_

_**I don't own Harry Potter or Eternal Darkness. If I did, I'd be filthy rich. As it is, I'm a humble freshman at college. Sucks to be me, but ah well. On with the story!**_

_**Prologue – Finding the Tome**_

_**Number Four, Privit Lane**_

The first sound the young boy heard was, of course, his uncle's shouting. It seemed to the youth that his uncle could only speak in three tones: shouting, threatening him, or being sickly sweet to the boy's cousin. As it was, he was yelling, and that meant his uncle was talking to his aunt again, probably about him like always. The young boy pulled his ragged grey shirt on and slipped his taped together glasses on. As silently as he could, the boy crept over to the door of his little cupboard and placed his ear against the wood.

"I DON'T CARE IF HE'S YOUR ONLY CONNECTION TO YOUR SISTER! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF HIS FREAK ACTIONS! EITHER HE LEAVES, OR I DO!" Hidden in his cupboard, the boy froze. For as long as he could remember, he had been a spot of anger between his aunt and uncle. The man would constantly rant about 'freak' things that the boy did, when often the boy had no idea what was going on. His aunt would always do her best to placate the man.

This particular turn of conversation had only come up once before though. The boy didn't remember what had happened before it, but whatever it was had angered his uncle so greatly that the man had nearly struck his wife while he was yelling at her. That had the result of the boy being removed from the house by his crying aunt, who kept apologizing for it through her tears.

The boy had lived on the streets of the town for half a year after that. He had learned how to scavenge for his food from dumpster bins, how to snatch clothes from the charity homes that he spent the occasional night in, and how to fight with whatever he could get his hands on. His green eyes had seen some of the nastier things that humanity had to offer – women offering themselves for scraps of food, or drugs, or worse to the boy, men offering their women for food or drugs. The worst incident that the young boy could remember was watching a man get stabbed by a woman he had bought with a bright coin, as he himself shivered under a pile of rags in the back of the alley.

That dark time had ended when the police found him as he dug for food in a garbage pail. He had found out that not even days after he had been removed from the home, his aunt had gone to the police with a slightly edited story of what had happened. He didn't know what the officers said to his uncle, but for a month after he was returned to Number Four Privit Lane, his uncle didn't shout or threaten him once.

Now, hearing those feared and hated words from his uncle again, the boy cowered in fear for only half a moment before running to pack a knapsack he had found in the lost and found at school with all of the clothes he had. He wanted to be as ready as he could be when he was put on the streets this time. The boy turned back to the door and crouched against it once more, listening for what he knew was coming next.

"Fine then. Get out." There was stunned silence on both sides of the door at the woman's words.

"Wha?" The uncle was obviously confused. The boy listened from his cupboard, not daring to believe what he was hearing. He pressed himself against the door harder, not wanting to miss a single word that was said.

"You heard me. I let you frighten me in to putting him out of his home last time, but that isn't going to happen this time. If it's either you or him leaving, pack your bags and leave." Outside of the doorway, the woman stood, her arms crossed as she glared at her husband. The man was doing a reasonable impersonation of a fish, his mouth hanging open, and closing halfway feebly before dropping open again. Suddenly the shock vanished, replaced by a calculating anger.

"You can't do without me woman. You forget who pays for this house, and the food that you eat." He sneered. "So get rid of the freak unless you want to lose _your _home too."

"Wrong. I can do without you. My old job has offered to let me work several times, but I've always turned them down because you wanted a stay at home wife." A calculating look of her own crossed the woman's face. "On second thought, there isn't a choice now. Get out of my house Dursely. You might pay for it, but we signed it in to my name. Go live with your whale of a sister, I'm not putting up with you or her any more. I'll be filing for a divorce later today or tomorrow." In his room, the boy now sat on the floor, staring at the door in shock and disbelief. He hurriedly scooted back to the door, straining to hear what was being said. There was nothing to hear though, except for a shriek of rage, a fleshy thump followed by a second thump, then the sound of footsteps thudding up the stairs then slamming around upstairs above the boy's head. There was more silence for several minutes, before the sound of footsteps came from the stairs once more.

"No!"

"Momma?"

"Don't even try woman. I already packed a bag for him, I'm taking him with me." The woman outside the door gave a strangled sob, mirrored by the third voice, the youngest. The boy within the small space could hear a light smack of flesh against flesh. "Out the door boy. She's picked the freak instead of me, and you're the cost of that choice." The boy pressed against the door stiffened angrily. He began jiggling the door handle frantically, muttering at it to open..

"Come on come on com'on open open open…" Despite his best efforts though, the door was locked from outside, leaving him without the ability to get out and stop what was happening. The young male gave one last desperate tug, and nearly fell backwards when the door to the cupboard flew open. The black haired boy leapt over his aunt, who had fallen into the cupboard when the door opened, his face contorted in a rictus of fury. He barreled forwards, making his uncle think the youth was aiming for him.

At the last moment, the boy from the cupboard turned enough to slam into the boy that had been brought down the stairs, shoving him away from the older man. The second boy lay on the ground for no more than a second before scrambling towards his mother. The uncle turned to where the black haired boy was, his face purple with anger.

"Stupid freak!" He brought one massive ham-hand up to his shoulder, intent on smashing into the young boy's face. The boy threw his hands up in front of him in panic, not noticing as one of his hands brushed against his uncle's shirt.

"G-WAY!" The boy screamed at his uncle. His eyes clenched shut tightly, expecting the hand to crash into him any second. When moments passed and nothing happened, one green eye cracked open to look around. The small entryway showed no sign of the brutish man who had been there mere seconds before. The boy's aunt had pulled herself into a sitting position against the wall next to his cupboard, and his cousin had buried his face in his mother's hair crying. The massive man was nowhere to be seen.

The boy's aunt stared in shock at the spot where her husband had been moments before. When it became apparent that he truly was no longer there, she began laughing, a broken, shaky laugh. The boy from within the cupboard collapsed to the ground, drained for some reason that he didn't know or understand. It was at this tableau; a woman laughing and crying, a young boy sitting against her, and another staring at the floor just meters away; that the doorbell rang. The young black haired boy shot up to his feet and staggered to the door, casting a glance back towards his aunt who nodded her head as she wiped her cheeks dry.

When the door opened, the boy saw two men in strange clothing standing there. One was a tall dark-skinned man wearing a hat that was even stranger than his robes, while the other was an old, old man who had eyes that seemed to twinkle at the young boy from behind his half moon glasses.

"Hello there young man, may we come in?" The old man spoke gently, as if he could tell that the boy was already edgy and nervous. A second glance back at his aunt for confirmation, which she gave through her growing shock, and the young black haired boy scooted out of the doorway, letting the two men into the room.

The dark skinned man immediately took out a small stick and began waving it around the room, muttering incomprehensible syllables under his breath. The old man helped the boy's aunt to her feet and patted the boy's cousin on the head, an action that for some reason calmed the crying boy.

"Albus. Got a positive here." The boy from the closet focused his attention on the dark skinned man with the incredibly deep voice. The man had stopped, a faint blue glow emanating near his hand, which was near where the boy's uncle had been standing before he vanished. The old man nodded to his compatriot, then looked at the boy's aunt.

"May we speak to you and the boy?" The aunt nodded, her face settling down. She knelt and wrapped her arms around her son.

"I need you to go up and play in your room for now baby." The boy seemed confused for a moment, then his face cleared and he nodded before shooting up the stairs, pausing at the top of the steps to look back curiously at the group that was now moving in to the living room. He shrugged then, deciding the game his father had torn him from was more intriguing than the old man talking to the freak.

**In the living room**

The black haired boy sat down on the couch near his aunt, who put a protective arm around him. The older stranger sat down in the uncle's favorite chair after giving it a distasteful look. The dark skinned man stood behind the older man, his arms crossed across his chest with an impassive expression settled on his face. There was silence for a moment before the old man pulled a small bag from a pocket.

"Lemon drop anyone?" The twinkling eyes swept around the room, pausing on the other people, losing only a bit of their twinkle when the boy's aunt shook her head. That lost twinkle returned with reinforcements when the boy looked at his aunt with a confused, hopeful expression. The woman nodded once slightly.

"Please sir." The boy held out his hand timidly, and brightened when the old man pulled one of the sour treats from the small bag and dropped it into his hand.

"Kingsley?"

"No thank you Albus." The old man's expression didn't change this time, as if he hadn't expected his companion to take one. He took one of the candies for himself then sat in silence for a moment. Finally he looked up at the two people who were sitting across from him. The boy fidgeted under his gaze, then nearly scrambled over the back of the couch when the twinkle vanished completely.

"Who did that to you?" The old man's gaze was locked on the boy's aunt. The young child turned to see what had upset the stranger, and gasped when he saw an angry red bruise forming along the side of his aunt's face. Instead of answering the question, the woman looked down at her lap.

"I see. Young one, can you tell me what happened just before my friend and I arrived?" The twinkle had returned, but it was incredibly soft compared to how it had been before. The boy twitched slightly, his eyes avoiding the older man's, until he finally crumpled in on himself. With a look to his aunt, who seemed oblivious now, he started speaking.

"I…I woke up when I heard my uncle shouted outside my door…" An encouraging gesture from the white haired man prompted him further. "He..he told my aunt that it was down to him or me…I missed some of what they said because I remembered what happened last time he said that and I went to get ready to leave." The old man's twinkle vanished again as the boy's aunt deflated slightly as he spoke. Seeing his aunt get sadder, the boy rushed to keep talking. "But my aunt told him that he was the one who would have to leave, not me! I…I think that was when uncle hit her…" Both of the strangers tensed. "Uncle went upstairs for a while, and came back down with my cousin. He told Aunt that he was taking my cousin with him when he left, and that he had already grabbed a bag. That wasn't right though, my cousin shouldn't have to suffer because Aunt didn't want to stay with Uncle any more…so I…I broke out of my cupboard and ran at him. Cousin got away and made it over to Aunt. Uncle was about to hit me when he suddenly …suddenly vanished."

The two men were quiet for a long moment, then the dark skinned man stepped forward and spoke into the older man's ear.

"It was a Portkey Albus. I don't know how he did it, but my money is on the boy. Is he…?" The older man nodded at the question that the other man didn't finish.

"Thank you Kingsley. I shall try to explain it to them as well as I can, though it is my opinion that the young lady already has a bit of an idea." The boy's aunt nodded once.

"He's like her isn't he? He's going to be like his mother and father after all, despite everything that pig did…"

"Yes. My boy, before this, have strange things ever happened around you?" The boy tilted his head thinking back across his past. Most memorable to him was an occurrence from when he was living on his own. He looked up at the old man and nodded.

"That my boy, was magic, just like what happened today was. Though it wasn't the same magic, the power behind it was the same. You are a wizard my boy, or you will be in a few years when you get training."

"Magic isn't real! Uncle made sure I knew that…" The boy grew agitated. The one lesson that had literally been beaten into him was that – magic wasn't real. For some reason, when the boy said that his aunt flinched.

"Not real? My boy, magic is as real as you are. Observe." The old man pulled out a small stick of his own, though this one was of a different kind of wood. "_Wingardium Leviosa._" The man pointed the end of the wand at the young boy and began flicking it upwards slightly. For a moment, the black haired boy didn't understand what was going on. Then he realized that he was now above his aunt's head. He panicked slightly, twisting and squirming, trying to get down from whatever it was that was holding him up. Despite his struggles, he remained floating in the air. "_Finito._" At the word from the old man, the boy dropped to the couch where he had been. As he sat there stunned, the old man smiled.

"Believe in magic now my boy?" For a long, long moment, the boy sat with his brow furrowed. Then, slowly and tentatively, he nodded. "Good. Now, you can't learn magic yet, you aren't yet eleven, and that is when magical schooling begins. Or at least, you can't learn the magic spells from my school. You will attend right?"

"Of course he will be. I owe them that much. It'll be a struggle to pay with the pig gone, but.."

"Oh never worry about that my dear. Your nephew's parents left him a sizable sum of money for schooling, enough to cover whatever he might need. Now then… do you have any idea where the boy might have sent his uncle?" The glasses wearing boy blinked and looked up. He had sent his uncle away? How? Then he remembered the twinkly eyed man's words – magic of a different kind than what he had experienced in the past. Though he didn't know those incidents were magic, what had happened today couldn't be anything but magic.

"No. He doesn't know many places…" The boy straightened up. He hadn't been thinking of any place when his uncle had vanished. Did that mean anything? The old man looked toward the boy when he sat upright. When the black haired child remained silent, the older man sighed and shook his head.

"Well then, we'll just have to wait and see where he shows up. I'll leave it to you to explain what he needs to know." The white haired old man stood up and bowed to the boy's aunt, then patted the boy on his head. "Grow up well my boy, I look forward to seeing you when you start school." He reached into another pocket and pulled out a small brown bag, similar to the one that he had taken the lemon drops from. He gestured to his companion, and the two strode to the fireplace. With a last benevolent smile towards the boy, the old man opened the bag as the dark skinned man pulled out his wand and lit the fireplace with a wave. From the bag came a strange powder that made the fire burn green instead of its normal red/orange hues. The two men moved into the fire, causing the boy to gasp in fear. Instead of burning, they disappeared suddenly, leaving the house as silent as it had been before they arrived. The fire returned to its normal colors before flickering and fading away. The boy's aunt pulled him into her arms and held him close.

And thus, at the tender age of eight, Harry Potter lost his uncle, and was introduced to the world of wizards in the same day.

**Time Skip – Six months later, Surrey Public Library**

"Come on Harry, we've been here dozens of times! Haven't you read all of the interesting books by now?" Harry, now age nine, grunted and shook his head at the question.

"Nope. With every book I read, more become interesting. And don't complain too much, it was because we kept coming here that you found that book you're always reading." Dudley merely scowled and turned away, unable to argue with that fact. "By the way, I think I saw another book from that series in the new arrivals bin, you might want to go check to see if it wasn't …" Even before the black haired boy could finish speaking, his cousin had raced off to the front of the library to look for himself. The glasses wearing boy chuckled and shook his head before turning his attention back to the shelves in front of him. As his eyes roamed the shelves, his thoughts wandered across all that had happened since his uncle had vanished.

Within a week of his uncle's mysterious disappearance, his aunt Petunia had taken her old company up on their offers of employment. Even now, Harry wasn't quite sure what it was that she did, all he knew was that it involved chemicals. Unfortunately, at about that same time, Mrs. Figg, the woman who Petunia wanted to have watch after the boys while she was at work, became ill from some strange sort of illness. Despite being sick, the woman had been happy, as if her disease proved something. While Harry couldn't figure it out, his aunt had nodded at the old woman's smile.

Still, without a nanny for when she was gone, Petunia had needed somewhere for the boys to go when they weren't in school. At first, they had just stuck around Little Whinging, mainly going to the park down the road. But one day, Harry had gotten the urge to wander the streets like he had done when living on his own. By that time, Dudley had fallen into the habit of following his cousin mainly for the sense of familiarity that the action brought. And so it was that the two ended up at the nearby public library.

For days Dudley had always complained whenever their paths brought them to the old building. He had no real interest in reading, being far more inclined to physical activities. Even so, he had stuck around to watch after his cousin, who would become so entranced in his books that he would forget the outside world existed. But not all of the books interested Harry, and it was one of these that caught Dudley's attention.

It wasn't anything special, just another martial arts how-to book. But the image on the front, of a martial artist posed in a fighting stance, hooked the physically oriented boy better than any gory videogame ever had. He immediately pestered Harry until the bookworm brought his attention to the real world long enough to check the book out for him. Since then, the two would come to the library every so often – Harry to find new books to read, Dudley to watch after Harry and to renew his loan of the martial arts book so the library wouldn't call home and alert his mother to the fact that they were wandering beyond the neighborhood.

Harry was snapped from his reminiscing by a strange feeling coming from behind one of the bookshelves. Half a year ago, he would have ignored the sensation and continued on, but after that day six months past, he knew of a whole different world that apparently existed right below his nose. He walked to the end of the row of books and turned, only to find himself face to face with a brick wall. Green eyes narrowing in confusion, he paced back along the bookshelf to the other end, trying to get around on that side. Once again, red brick halted his progress.

"What the bloody… This can't be the end of the library, I know I've been further than this. What is going on here?" The boy scratched his head in aggravation as he returned to where the strange sensation was the strongest. With a sigh, he plopped down to the ground and put his head in his hands, trying to figure out what was going on. His eyes snapped open wide when he felt a cold breeze lift his hair and blow across his forehead. Looking at the lowest shelf, Harry could see a dim outline of a gap on the other side of the books. Excitement now filling him, the boy began pulling the heavy tomes off of the shelf and stacking them beside him. When he had moved several books out of the way, he saw that the gap in the brick wall was large enough that he could crawl through it on his hands and knees.

With a glance around to make sure no one could see him, the inquisitive lad moved forward through the gap. Soon, he noticed a distinct slope downwards, making him realize that the gap in the wall was actually the opening of a tunnel.

_Is this how wizards enter their hidden world? Or is it something else entirely?_ After several minutes of crawling, Harry felt the closeness around him pull back. By now, he was far enough from the light of the library that he could barely see. He perceived enough to see that the tunnel had opened up, giving him enough room to stand upright. Bracing one hand against the nearby wall, the boy did just that. He continued following the path, wondering if he should go back and get Dudley just in case. Mere moments after he had had that thought, he saw light a head. With renewed vigour, Harry quickened his pace.

The tunnel opened into a small rough-hewn room. Torches were placed on the three walls of the chamber, around two stone pedestals. On the first was a tablet with writing in what seemed to be multiple languages. Though he couldn't read them all, Harry could see Russian, Japanese, Chinese, Spanish, and more that he couldn't even put a name to. At the bottom of the tablet was one language that Harry could understand – English. He considered the message written there.

"_**Do you have the courage to see what lies on the other side of the Veil? Do you have the strength to face what hides behind the Veil?**__"_ It seemed to be a warning of some kind. Now believing that the Veil was how the Wizards referred to their separation of their world from the mundane world, Harry nodded to himself. He stepped past the first pedestal to look at the second.

It was a simple stone plinth, identical in shape to the first one. What rested on top of it was no stone tablet though. Instead, it was what seemed to be a book – a journal or diary it seemed to the boy, for on the front of the book was something that resembled a human face. Slowly, Harry reached out one hand and grasped the tome.

He brought the text closer to one of the torches and began flipping through the pages, trying to read it. Unfortunately, whatever language it was written in was one that wasn't even on the stone tablet nearby. After going over the pages multiple times, he growled and sped up the flipping, not even noticing when some of the ink began leaking and flowing away, as if melting from the pages. Slowly the ink dripped from the book as Harry grew more and more frustrated with his inability to read what was obviously a very important book, after all it wouldn't have been hidden away like this if it wasn't special.

The ink that had dripped from the pages began pooling on the ground by Harry's feet. After nearly a minute, Harry sighed and set the book back on the stone plinth. When he turned around, he fell to the ground in shock. The ink that had flowed from the book had formed into a small creature, that looked like an outline of a human being.

The creature was nearly as tall as Harry himself. Red and black lines of text – the same kind of writing that was in the book – seemed to be the creature's flesh. The symbols faded and flowed chaotically, giving the impression a body and form where there was none. One moment, red or black text would be in a spot, creating form and substance. The next, the symbols would have faded away, letting Harry see right through what had once been solid seeming substance. The creature gave a hollow, echoing shriek that sent a shiver down the boy's spine.

One hand, rather, one claw made of red and black text swung across, smashing into the boy's face and sending him to the floor. Years of growing up with an abusive uncle had increased the boy's pain tolerance. Instead of falling to the ground crying as he might have, he instead rolled to his feet and stared uncomprehendingly at the creature in front of him. It stumbled towards him, drawing back one text-arm to strike him again.

Harry ducked under the clumsy strike and punched the thing in its chest. He found out that even when text didn't give an outline, the creature still occupied the space. Another swipe forced the human boy to jump backwards, unfortunately sending him into the stone pedestal where the book had been resting. The impact sent the book to the ground, where, unknown to Harry, more text flowed from its pages. Instead of forming into more monsters like the one in front of the boy, the new text seemed to shimmer and fade away from sight altogether.

Harry circled around the pedestal, trying to keep the stone between himself and the creature. In a sudden burst of inspiration, he grabbed one of the torches from the wall and swung it at the text thing. The creature staggered back, hissing at the boy, trying to avoid the flames. In its haste to avoid the torch, it kicked the book on the ground, sending more ink flying from the pages, unnoticed to the combatants.

The black haired boy realized he would have to beat the strange monster, and fast. Swinging the torch around was wearing him out, fast. He lowered the torch, trying to trick the red and black creature into thinking he was already exhausted. It fell for the ploy, and rushed in, bringing one clawed hand up to cut into its victim. Burning wood shot up into the creature's chest, sending it stumbling backwards, its body already burning up. It staggered around, kicking the book again and again, sending ink shooting out of the book, ink that kept vanishing into thin air as soon as it hit the ground.

The boy finally noticed that the book had fallen to the ground. He shoved the torch at the creature, herding it off of the book. He scooped the tome up into one arm, and now found that he couldn't swing the torch well enough to beat the monster. Frantically the boy set the book back onto the stone pillar, only to freeze when he heard a groggy voice.

"What is going on here?" He turned around enough to look back down the tunnel. There was no one there. He kept one eye on the red and black creature as it finally put out the flames, though it was now limping and seemed to be injured. Harry couldn't figure out who had spoken.

"I asked you a question boy. What is going on here?" The voice wasn't groggy any more. It now seemed irritate. "Oh, that can wait. Look alive boy, I'll lend you my help. That thing… I remember it for some reason, and I don't like what I can remember. Boy! Look here, you need to pick me up again for me to help you!"

_ 'Pick me up again'? I haven't picked up anyone, and I haven't picked up anything but the book and this torch…the…the book? _Green eyes flitted to the stone pillar. The book that was there was no longer laying on its back cover. Instead it was up on one end, the face turned towards Harry.

"Do you want my help or not? Stop standing there gawking!" Looking back at the thing that just kept coming after him, Harry made his choice. He sprinted towards the book and scooped it up. "AHhahahaha! You made the right choice lad! Now foul shade! Feel the power of Grimoire Weiss, and feel fear sink into your dark construction! I am the mightiest tome of magic ever created! With a single word I can pierce your body as if you were a bug on display! And that word is…that word is….that…is.." Harry nearly dropped the torch in shock when the book floated out of his grasp. His jaw fell when the book, which had been acting high and mighty, suddenly ran out of words to say just as it geared up to destroy the monster.

Suddenly the book, Grimoire Weiss, flew in front of Harry's face and opened up.  
"Boy, is there anything there?" There was a definitely worried tone to Weiss's voice. Harry was confused, of course the was stuff there! He just couldn't read it. He glanced at the book's pages, and froze. The pages were blank. Now under his own control, Grimoire Weiss flipped through the pages faster than Harry's hands could move. But the result was the same – each page was blank.

"Grimoire Weiss..they…they're all blank…"

"Curses and damnation! All that kicking around and getting knocked down has knocked my verses clean out of me! Wait…Boy! Do you see that line of golden text in the creature?" Harry blinked. He hadn't noticed anything like that before. But now that his attention had been brought to it, he could make out golden text. It was buried within the red and black text, about where the heart would be if the creature was human.

"Y-yes! Near its heart?"

"Exactly boy. I think that is my magic! Slay the creature and my aid is yours for the foreseeable future!" The word magic made Harry take notice. Taking the initiative, he lowered his torch like a lance and charged at the creature. The burning wood punched clear through the red and black torso, causing the creature to shriek again as it caught on fire. Weiss suddenly flew up above Harry's head as the monster burned to death. The creature's blood – the red text, Harry realized – flowed out of its body, and into the Grimoire.

"D-did you just drink its blood Weiss?"

"My name is _Grimoire_ Weiss! And blood is sound, sound is words, and words…words are power!" The gold text shattered apart within the burnt husk of the monster and shot out of the carcass, then gathered together and flowed into Weiss as well. With a maniacal cackle, the book dropped back down to the level of the now falling body.

"Boy, hold out your hand towards the monstrosity and I shall show you my power!" Harry did as instructed, holding out his right hand after letting go of the torch. The Grimoire flew in front of his hand and opened up, this time with the open pages facing the blackened corpse that was still moving slowly, small bits of red pulsing to show it was still alive. Suddenly a small red bolt flew from the pages of Grimoire Weiss and slammed into the monster. As if that was the first drop, bolt after bolt shot from the book into the creature, tearing it apart. Though Harry did notice that the first bolt was larger than the subsequent bolts, they did their job, literally ripping the monster apart.

"That..that is your power Grimoire Weiss?" After seeing that, Harry was inclined to be polite. Though it wasn't the same magic that the old man with twinkling eyes had shown him, and that his aunt had later explained was what his parents could do, it was still power beyond his capabilities.

"Yes…" There was a strange note in the book's voice. "Though, sad to say, that is only a part, and indeed, the weakest of my verses. Curses and damnations, the others are somewhere else, in other Shades. Though I can feel that they haven't gone far, their signatures have faded…they've gone into hiding." The book spun around, the face floating just before Harry's. "I still need your help boy. Only someone who has seen the verses can see Shades, unless they themselves can wield this magic. And I need someone who can see the Shades to help me fight them – I cannot use my magic without a human component. What say you, shall we work together? And boy, know this – if they are not slain, the Shades will eventually become numerous enough to eliminate your species altogether." Harry froze. He was only nine, and now he's being asked to help save the world?

"Don't worry lad." It was almost as if Grimoire Weiss could feel his fear. "As I said, the creatures with my verses inside of them have gone in to hiding. The majority that you might fight will be much weaker, but for now, there won't be any Shades for some time to come. We have time to prepare."

"Uhm…Grimoire Weiss… my..my name is Harry Potter… and…" The boy was nervous.

"What is it boy? Speak!"  
"I'm a wizard." Silence met this statement. "Or.. or rather I will be, when I go to school in two years."

"A… a wizard.. just like Emile was… or something else… ugh. Blasted memories. Boy, magic may not be enough to face these creatures. Not without more of the verses, and even then we will face Shades who negate magic. You need to learn how to fight, though what I saw today wasn't too bad, it was…unrefined. I can instruct you, I traveled for many years with one of the finest swordsmen to ever live. I must say… you remind me of him…" Harry was confused. "Ah, forget it for now. I don't know why you do. Still. We must acquire a blade for you, and train you in its uses. Come lad, let us get out of this dank hole! Oh, leave the torch.. I can hide myself still, but that would be rather conspicuous." Weiss seemed to shimmer and distort. Harry could still make him out, but then he realized that what he was seeing was the red and black text, just like the shade. And now that he thought about it, just like the bolts that had destroyed the monster.

_ This must be his magic…Text magic…_ Harry nodded and dropped the torch. The two exited the cavern, with Weiss floating behind Harry when the tunnel narrowed.

Eventually they emerged back in to the library. Harry looked around nervously, but saw no one waiting for him there. He hurriedly placed the books back in front of the entrance to the tunnel and slumped over, exhaustion setting in as the adrenaline from his fight wore off.

It was like this, slumped over in front of a bookshelf, that Dudley found his cousin sleeping. The boy shook his head and grinned before rousing the black haired boy enough to get him to put one arm over his shoulder.

"Harry? What made that red mark on your face?"

"Huh-whazzat? Oh.. book fell on me." Dudley laughed as the two headed home. Harry never even realized that on Dudley's other side was a bag with several books in it. On the top of each was 'How To Series'.

_**Alright, that's the end of the prologue!**_

_**To set some things clear:**_

_**This will be a Harry x Hermione Fiction. It will be rated 'M' for gore, and lemons much later on. Also included will be:  
Good Dumbles!**_

_**Smart/Semi-Powerful Harry (Grimoire Weiss has the power…but Harry learns things himself too.) **_

_**New foes, mostly from the Nier game, though some will be new to me, like this first enemy was.**_

_**And here is what the abilities of Grimoire Weiss are:  
This book is combat oriented. Spells are:**_

_**Dark Blast – Shown here. Basically a repeating attack of energy. Relatively weak on its own, but makes up for it with nearly unlimited usage.**_

_**Dark Lance – Unacquired. A larger, stronger version of the Dark Blast. Weiss refers to it in this chapter, his spell that he claimed could pierce the Shade 'like it was a bug on display'. Will require more careful targeting than the point and shoot Dark Blast. Starts at one lance, will later become more.**_

_**Dark Hand – Unacquired. A giant fist made of the magic of Grimoire Wiess. It slams into the ground, crushing its opponents. Harry will need to train in judging the distance that this thing strikes at. More skill with Weiss's magic will let him create more shockwaves.**_

_**Dark Execution – Unacquired. Harry will grab Weiss and slam him into the ground. Moments later, spears of dark energy will explode from the ground in the direction that Harry was facing. More skill will allow him to add more directions, until he can eventually send eight rays of spears outwards.**_

_**Dark Whirlwind – Unacquired. A blade of dark energy will form near Harry and begin spinning around him. More skill will enable him to create more blades, up to four total.**_

_**These are the next few abilities, and they will take a while to be acquired. Harry won't get most of these until after the Prisoner of Azkaban equivalent that I'll have.**_

_**Harry won't face most of the monsters from the game, though the major bosses he will fight, or I'll come up with a new foe. So if you know the game Nier, you might watch out for the major bosses to have an idea of what Harry might face. But don't rely solely on the game, I might not go in order.**_

_**Oh, and yes – a couple of the characters from Nier will be making appearances. Thought the titular character, and his daughter won't be, you can expect to see Kaine and Emile (second form) in here at some points.**_

_**All right, so love it, hate it, tell me what you think people! And I'm just waiting for some ideas for songs for people to sing, and once I get a few, I'll have the next chapter or two of 'Results' ready to go!**_

_**Ja ne!**_

_**-G.T.-**_


	2. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry potter or Nier. Don't see me rolling in money. –shrugs-**_

_**Chapter One: Beginning a New Chapter (Letters From …?)**_

_**Number 4 Privit Lane**_

Harry ducked under his cousin's wide swing, and came up with his right fist leading the way. The other boy jerked backwards, narrowly avoiding the uppercut strike. The larger boy grinned before lunging forward and wrapping his arms around his cousin and crushing the smaller boy's arms against his sides.

"Yield Harry!" The glasses wearing boy struggled for a moment, then snorted and brought his knees up, ramming them into the sandy blonde's stomach. Dudley let go, gripping his stomach as he tried to catch his breath. Harry jumped up onto the other boy's back, clenching his right arm around Dudley's throat in a choke hold. He kept up the pressure, leaving just enough space that Dudley could breath.

"You yield Dudley." He spoke the words directly against his cousin's ear as the other boy tried to buck him off. But both fighters knew that Harry's tenacious grip wouldn't loosen unless he was the victor. After a few moments of struggling and trying to get his smaller cousin off, Dudley finally sighed and nodded. Instantly Harry let go and slid off of his cousin's back. The black haired boy moved over to the wall of the room and grabbed up a pair of water bottles, and tossed one over to his cousin.

"Did good cuz. Need to remember to hold me tighter next time you try bear hugging me, or figure out some other way to immobilize my legs." Dudley shook his head as Harry spoke.

"You know I've been trying, but unless I dip in to what martial arts I know, that's not going to happen." Both cousins chuckled. "Anyway, do you know what time mum is going to be home tonight?" Raven hair shook as the boy answered.

"Not a clue. She said that she had been given increased responsibilities, but not what they were or how long they would add to her hours." He shrugged. "But it's not like we haven't gone nights without her around before though. "Anyway, I've got to get to practice. See you at lunch time." Harry headed up to his room and changed clothes out of the loose gray sweat suit in to a pair of black jeans and a blood red t-shirt. He grabbed a sheath for a medium sized combat knife and headed over to the bookcase.

"Oi Wiess! Let's get going." From the top of the book shelves came a black bound book with a silver embossed etching of a human face. There was a yawning sound, then the pages ruffled quickly. The book, Wiess, floated up and turned around so that the human face was pointed towards the black haired boy.

"Ready for more are you? Very well, we should go over to the training room. Don't want to alarm your aunt with blood in places it shouldn't be." Harry rolled his eyes and nodded. He followed the black bound tome as it floated through the house back to the room that he and Dudley had been sparring in moments ago. Said boy was resting against one of the walls, a training manual laid out in front of him as he studied it. He glanced up when his cousin came in, and nodded awkwardly to Grimoire Wiess when he spotted the book.

"Forgot you'd need this room Harry. Mind if I watch?" A glance towards Wiess showed him bobbing noncommittally in the center of the room.

"I care not if your brother observes. But be warned child, my pupil must move with speed and unpredictability. There is a possibility that he may need the spot from which you are observing, and not have time to wait for you to get out of the way." The larger boy gulped and nodded fearfully. The warning issued, Wiess turned to face Harry directly. The black haired boy reached back with a foot and slid the door shut and dropped in to a low crouch as the book opened his pages.

From the open pages came a crescent of blackish red energy, screaming through the air towards where Harry was. The target of the attack sprang to the left as soon as the crescent of energy left the Grimoire's pages. He flexed his legs as he rolled along the ground, stopping his dodge early. He winced only slightly as the move sent a brief pang of pain through his body, but the second crescent of energy that Wiess had unleashed missed him by a wide margin as he propelled himself forward, towards the book.

A small pop and a flash of steel, and Grimoire Wiess felt the tip of the combat knife resting against his binding. He sighed and fluttered up and away from the spot.

"Once. Come again Harry." The book unleashed a flurry of the crescents of black-red energy. Dudley watched in shock as his cousin began weaving across the room, his movements jerky as if he was performing some strange dance he didn't know quite well. Suddenly the boy stopped and stood up straight with a groan. The rapid attacks halted as Harry held up one finger then crouched back down. Then the chain of assault began again.

Harry dropped straight to the ground as the first of this third wave of attacks flew over his head. He braced his open hand against the floor of the room, then launched himself sideways as Wiess reoriented his attacks towards the spot where he was laying. The spray of bolts shot past him, narrowly missing his body as he twisted in the air. The black haired boy landed in another crouch by the wall, bracing his legs for a split moment before dashing along the side of the room until he was directly across from the Tome.

Wiess was bringing his attack orientation around to bear on Harry when the boy shoved himself off of the wall, throwing himself into the air towards the book. His knife impacted on the center of the book, sending him tumbling backwards. Harry landed in a jumble on the ground, breathing heavily. Grimoire Wiess floated down next to him and spoke softly.

"Are you all right boy?" He was sent backwards again when a foot lashed out and caught the left corner of his binding. Harry came up into a loose stance, glaring at the book. From where the bolt had struck his shoulder earlier, blood was flowing down his right arm.

"Damn it Wiess, you're supposed to cut the intensity of the attacks to impact, not slice!" The book floated back up and closer to the boy, the face spun around so that it was staring at the wound.

"Strange, I thought I had…. Hmm. It's… Wait, Harry, the date!" For a moment, the two boys stared at the magickal tome blankly. It was actually the larger cousin who remembered first.

"Oi Harry, your birthday is soon isn't it?" That keyed Harry in to what the problem might be. The boy groaned loudly and looked at Wiess. The same thought ran through their minds.

_ Magical pubescence._ The book began contemplating how his partner's magical emanations might affect his own, while the boy went off on a completely different tangent.

_Bloody great. Not only do I get to deal with normal teenage hormones waking up, I get to deal with my own freaking magic coming into play._ He groaned again and sat down against the wall, placing the knife beside him before burying his face in his hands and shuddering. His cousin looked at him with concern evident from his expression. Dudley took a step closer to his cousin and placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder.

"What's wrong mate?" Harry looked up at him and sighed.

"Be glad you're normal Dudley. Be glad." His face went back in to his palms. Finally Grimoire Wiess shook himself from the ponderings the revelation had brought on and floated down to where Harry was. He settled himself beside the boy before speaking.

"Well, it doesn't look like you are going to be up for much practice right now. Go take a shower boy." The glasses wearing teen looked up and nodded slowly as the fog of the realization that he was becoming magically focused settled on his mind. He stood up and headed back upstairs to the bathroom, with Wiess floating up the stairs after him then turning in to the bedroom.

Dudley watched the two leave the room, and shook his head as he thought about how he had found out about the living book and the fact that Harry had enlisted himself into a hidden war on a monstrous force.

_**Despicable Author Spell: Flashback blast (mentally deranged muse…)**_

_ Dudley blinked the sleep clear of his eyes. He sat up and glanced at the clock beside his bed, and wondered what on earth had woken him up at twelve thirty seven in the morning. A few moments later, he heard a strange thumping sound coming from the room downstairs that he had recently gotten his mother to set aside as a training room. At the time, it was pretty sparse, with only a single mat and a single punching bag, but it was still his training room. It made him curious, trying to figure out why there was thumping coming from there in the middle of the night. _

_ He got up and moved quietly down the stairs, and stopped at the closed door to the room. He bent over slightly and pressed his ear against the keyhole and listened. Inside he could hear what sounded like his cousin's voice, occasionally grunting in pain before saying a number, at others shouting in triumph before a voice that the boy did not recognize saying a number. After listening to this for only a minute or so, Dudley grew very concerned. With a quick shove, he tumbled through the door._

_ The sight that met his eyes threw him into a slight state of shock. In front of him, Harry was in a slumped-over crouch, blood trickling from numerous small slices on his torso, showing through rips on his shirt. Floating in the air in front of his the black haired boy was a book, made of black leather and silver embossing that for some strange reason reminded Dudley of a face._

_ When the door flew open, both beings in the room spun around to face it. Harry's eyes widened in shock as he saw his cousin laying on the floor staring up at him. Beside him, Wiess floated silently, pondering the new person._

_ "Ha—Harry?" The question unasked in his words was obvious. The black haired boy brought one hand up to the back of his head and rubbed it sheepishly, then staggered over to one corner of the room where his glasses lay on top of a towel. He put the glasses back on then turned to his cousin._

_ "Hehe…uhm, Dudley…meet Grimoire Wiess. Wiess, this is my cousin Dudley."  
"Harry, what the hell is going on?" The smaller boy made hushing motions, his eyes darting upwards towards where his aunt lay sleeping. His cousin gave no indication of quieting down though, and instead seemed to be readying himself to begin making a lot of noise. Harry darted forward and clamped a hand over his cousin's mouth._

_ "Shhhh! Look, give me a second and I'll explain." The boy glared over his cousin's hand at him, but nodded slowly. Harry pulled his hand away and kept speaking. "Alright. You have to be quiet, but here it is. Do you remember when we went to the library, and you found me by a bookcase on the floor with a welt on my head?"_

_ " Course I do. You got hit by a falling book." Came Dudley's reply. He frowned when his cousin shook his head._

_ "Sorry, but not quite. That's what I said but… I got it from fighting." The larger boy stiffened. He had told his black haired cousin countless times to leave the fighting to him and – "Relax Dud, you couldn't have fought this thing. Bloody 'ell, you couldn't have even seen it. The thing I fought wasn't human cuz, and it was made of ink and blood." Dudley was about to interrupt when he saw the disgust written on the smaller boy's face. "I went exploring Dudley, and I found a place that shouldn't exist. IT was a dark, dank tunnel that I had to crawl through. At the end was a small room, like you see in movies used for summoning rituals or something. In the center of the room was this pedestal, with a book on it. You know me and books, so I went to read it."  
"I couldn't understand a word of it. It was filled with writing, but nothing was in English. I was upset. I gave up after several minutes, and put the book back on the stone. I turned around and saw this…this thing. It wasn't human, didn't even try to look like it. It resembled an overgrown monkey, I think. But instead of flesh, or fur, this thing was made up of lines of writing. Some of it was black, like ink, while other parts were blood red." Harry glanced at his cousin and could see that his story wasn't being believed. He hastened to get to the part that he could easily confirm._

_ "I fought it Dud. Grabbed a torch from the wall closest to me and burned it. I thought I had beaten it after it fell to the ground, but the thing got back up. I was hopeless, if being burnt didn't kill the thing what chance did I have? That's when I heard him."_

_ "Heard who?"_

_ "Me, child. I am Grimoire Wiess, magickal tome extraordinaire, and the reason your cousin is alive." Dudley's head whipped around to the floating book. The lips hadn't moved so far as he could tell, but the boy knew that there was only the three of them in the room. And that voice hadn't been his or Harry's. "Your cousin and I teamed together, and were able to defeat the beast. I am what could be seen as a kind of…prison. That thing that your cousin fought was the weakest of the monsters that had been sealed within my pages by a great man. Unfortunately, it was able to escape when Harry was checking my pages. And even worse, in the fight that ensued, I was damaged to the point that the other creatures were able to escape into the world."_

_ "Dudley, I have to help him recover the creatures. I am responsible for their escape. And.. I am one of the only people who can even see the monsters. For example… look in the corner of the room farthest from the door." Dudley glanced, and rolled his eyes. There was nothing there. He blinked when he saw one of the cushion pads that he had fly past him from where Harry was. When it reached the corner of the room, instead of hitting the wall, it impacted against _something_ there, in the air. "Wiess –"_

_ "My name is GRIMOIRE WIESS INSOLENT CHILD!" _

_ "As I was saying, WIESS and I managed to capture one of the things. We were going to kill it tonight, but I have something I want to try. Grimoire Wiess, can you open to the page that the Dark Blast is on?" The mystic tome grumbled but opened slowly. Dudley stared at the flowing black lines that formed words he couldn't understand. The book snapped shut._

_ "That's enough, you know how much I despise being gawked at. I had quite enough of that before thank you very much. What was the point of this boy?" The book's silver face turned to Harry, who had a slightly expectant look on his face. He made a shushing gesture at the tome as he studied his cousin's face._

_ Wiess had floated in between Dudley and the corner as he opened up to the requested page. When he closed and switched to glaring at the glasses wearing boy, he moved out of the line of Dudley's sight. And that was when Dursley boy saw the thing in the corner._

_ It resembled a large rat, except for a few glaring differences. From its rear, instead of a tail, grew a hand that was easily the size of Dudley's. The creature's body was made up of shifting and flowing red lines, that to Dudley resembled the stuff from the book. He didn't notice it at first, but as he stared, he realized that though the thing had what looked like eye sockets, it had no eyes, and though it had a mouth, the throat seemed to be solid from what he could see._

_ "That is a Shade Dudley. Grimoire Wiess was able to bind it, as it is fairly weak. We were testing things to see what worked best against them." Dudley was unable to tear his gaze away from the twisted creature that was snarling as it struggled to raise itself from the ground. "We've found that piercing, or slicing, its 'skin' works best. Blunt objects just seem to irritate it, which is probably why using the torch didn't work so well. Fire doesn't hurt them as much as I had hoped, though they seem to be absolutely terrified of water. It's almost like they're vampires from horror stories, and any water hurts them like holy water. I think it washes away their essence." Finally, slightly disturbed eyes were able to tear away from the thing to gaze into deep green orbs. "I'm about to kill this one. Now do you see why I have to help Wiess? These things, though they do have the glaring weakness of being susceptible to water, are invisible to anything normal. Only people who have seen Wiess-_

_ "Stop shortening my name child!"_

_ "Feh. Only people who have seen Wiess's inside, those lines on his pages, can see those things." Harry grabbed a water gun that Dudley had missed when he entered the room. He pumped it several times, building the pressure contained in the chamber of the gun. With a grim smile, the black haired boy pulled the trigger. Water spouted from the barrel of the gun and sliced into the Shade thing's skin, and literally ate away at the flesh it struck. The water soon cut through completely, like a hot blade through thin paper. With a wail, the red and black being shattered apart. The blood and ink lines shot through the air, impacting Grimoire Wiess. There was the sound of voices singing unintelligible words, then the lines vanished completely._

_**DESPICABLE AUTHOR SPELL: FINITE MEMORIUM! **_

Harry groaned as he stepped out of the shower and rubbed his injured shoulder. The hot water had helped ease much of the ache from the wound, but the pain remained, a constant reminder of his need to improve his reflexes and speed. Before the boy could finish getting dressed, he had to put bandages over the wound so blood didn't soak through and show at a bad time.

After bandaging and dressing, he headed down the stairs. He blinked as he saw that at the foot of the stairs, near the door, was a single letter.

"Hey Dud, it's Sunday right? No post on Sundays?" He called over his shoulder. He got an affirmative grunt from his cousin, who had wandered in to the kitchen and was preparing lunch. Frowning, the black haired boy bent over and picked up the envelope. It was heavy, much heavier than he expected. On the front was an addressing to him, specifically to him, in his room, in this house. His frown grew.

_Who the bloody 'ell knows that my room?_ There was no return address. Harry flipped the thick envelope over, trying to find a clue. On the back, over the seal, was a wax embossed shield. In the center was a fancy 'H', surrounded by four animals. There was a lion, serpent, badger, and raven. There was something about each animal that caught his attention, but despite studying it, he couldn't understand what it was. He sighed and headed to the table, pausing at the foot of the stairs to call up to Grimoire Wiess.

Dudley paused in eating his sandwich when he saw his cousin enter the room bearing an envelope. A few moments later, the book followed behind, somehow producing an air of curiosity. The glasses wearing boy laid the letter on the table and stared at it for a long moment before shrugging and getting a butter knife from the drawer. He slit the envelope open and pulled out the letter contained within. There was silence as he read it. Then his head dropped to the table several times, thumping heavily.

"It's…. my …school …acceptance … letter …" (triple dots indicate thuds). Dudley burst out laughing, though Wiess was silent still. "It says that I've been accepted to Hogwarts, and then proceeds to list all of the supplies I'll need. Only problem is, I have no bloody clue how to get these things.

"Uh, Harry…. No. Sorry mate, can't think of anything to help." Harry grunted at his cousin as he studied the paper, no, the parchment. Eventually he grunted again and dropped his head to the table. "But…the best option would probably be to wait for mum to get home. Her sister was like you, and so she'll probably have some idea of how to get a message back to them about that. Or maybe!"

"Mayhaps your aunt knows how to get the things herself."

"Oi!" Harry's head rose to see Dudley glaring at Grimoire Wiess, who seemed….smug. He sighed.

"Guys, please. I'd rather not deal with your bickering today."

"Grimoire Wiess does not _bicker_ like some old harridan! I am an erudite tome, and if I used my full knowledge my debates would be far beyond your meager comprehension!"

"And here I am, wishing they were beyond our hearing!" Once more, Harry dropped his head to the table. The other two resumed their argument, which soon escalated far beyond the simple give and take they had been. At times the black haired boy wished that Dudley hadn't found out about the secret, but then he knew that that revelation had greatly helped him – they wouldn't have been able to defeat the last Sealed Verse holder without Dudley's aid.

Harry sighed again and stood up from his spot at the table. He began pacing back and forth, drawing curious glances from the other two beings in the house. Eventually he leaned against the wall, facing the other two.

"Wiess, I need you to make the best effort you can at sensing where the next of the Leader Shades is going to make its appearance. We have to know….to know if I should even go to this place, this school, Hogwarts. I understand that schooling is important, but nowhere near as important as stopping the resurgence of the Shades into our world." The book bobbed in the air, an approximation of a nod, then settled down on the table. A blackish-red aura began emanating from him, like he was an incredibly soft lightbulb. As the tome pushed its abilities out to the fullest, Harry looked to his cousin.

"Aunt won't be home for a few hours more at the earliest. We need to plan out how to keep in contact if I have to leave."

"Uh, Harry, mum has mentioned that the place where her sister went to school had a fairly efficient post system."

"Yeah, but I don't think it would be a good idea to trust information about our enemy to anyone. It might start a panic."

"Mate, you're being just a bit paranoid. If anyone did read about the Shades, they'd throw it off as an imaginary game between two kids. There's no way that people would believe that there are invisible monstrosities that two boys and a book are the only that that can see them." Harry frowned as he realized that there was something that he and Grimoire Wiess had neglected to tell Dudley when he first found out.

"Dud, we aren't the only ones. Grimoire Wiess mentioned when I met him that there are certain people out there who have the ability to use the same kind of magic that he can use." As Dudley lifted one finger to point at Harry, the black haired boy shook his head. "Meant that there are people who can use it without being exposed to him channeling the power through them. As in, there are random people out there who might find themselves capable of unleashing a Dark Bolt. More importantly, they will be seeing the Shades." Dudley had taken in a deep breath as Harry spoke. He pondered what his cousin had said before letting out a deep breath.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Hell yes. No offense to the three of us, but two kids and a magic book shouldn't be trying to fight an otherworldy force on their own. And even you've said that you may not be going to learn from this wizard school." Harry glanced at Grimoire Wiess, who had remained silent. The ancient tome was still resting on the edge of the table, the aura around it unchanging. He shook his head and run one hand through his hair absently.

"Dud, part of the reason it has to be Wiess is because only he can absorb the Sealed Verses. Even if there is someone else out there who can see them, only he can put them away permanently. Against anyone else, they would eventually reform." Dudley nearly leapt to his feet, crowing in triumph.

"Aha! You said it has to be the book, not either of us! We can send him on his merry way to-"

"Like 'ell I'm going to do that. I'm responsible for this whole bloody mess, and I am _not_ going to foist it off on some other unsuspecting bloke." There was an impasse as the two preteens glared at each other. The worst part was that each could see the logic behind the point the other was trying to get across, yet refused to back down. They settled for glaring at each other while Wiess finished his search.

It was nearly a half hour later (Dudley had finished his sandwich, and Harry had eaten as well, glaring at each other and not saying a word the entire time) when the silence was broken. Both boy's eyes shot to the Grimoire as his aura pulled back into him and he floated up off of the table.

"It was painful lad, but I did it. I know where the next of these accursed beasts is going to rise. The problem is, it is nowhere in England at all." There were twin intakes of breath. "The blasted monster is gathering its strength in … find me a map please…" The weighty tone that Wiess was going for was shattered as he realized he didn't have a clue what the name of the place the next Leader Shade was going to appear in was. Both boys groaned, but Harry trudged up the stairs to find an atlas.

"Hey, relic…" Grimoire Wiess spun around to glare at Dudley, already gathering himself for a tirade. "Hold it. Is…can anyone channel your power?"

_Oh dear. The lad still seeks to protect his brother…_ The book swung from side to side, shaking its head as best as it could. "No child. Those who can channel the strength of my spells are few and far between, one in a hundred thousand at best guess. And those who can use my brand of magic without me providing the raw energy are far, far rarer. The actual likelihood of there being anyone out there who can see the Shades is…only going to happen if they blanket the entire globe. And by that time, it will be too late to save your world." There was a thunk from front hall, bringing both speakers up short.

Harry came back into the room, an atlas map in one hand, another of the strange envelopes in his other. He shrugged and set the envelope on the end of the table then spread the atlas out. Grimoire Wiess floated above the map, centering above Little Whinging, Surrey, England. He seemed to think for a moment, before drifting off in a seemingly random direction, until he held still.

"Here lad. The beast is focusing somewhere in this region. For some reason I cannot get a firm lock on its location, as if there was something obscuring my efforts." Harry blinked as he leaned over the table to see where it was that Wiess had felt the Sealed Verse containing Shade. The book seemed to be indicating Scotland, but the area was apparently uninhabited.

"Strange, wonder what it is out there that caught the Leader Shade's attention…."

"Boys, I'm home!" Grimoire Wiess fell to the table when that call reached them. Harry quickly sat down at the table, then pulled the tome onto his lap before scooting his seat forward so that the book couldn't be seen. Dudley hurried out into the hall to greet his mother.

"Mum! You're off early! What's the occasion?" Petunia removed her shoes and smiled at her son. She pulled her against him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing the top of his head. "MUM! Stop embarrassing me and answer please!"

"Give your mummy a hug Dudley." The boy groaned and consented, hugging his mother's waist. The woman let go of her son and smiled at him. "There, that wasn't so hard was it? And I got the day off early because a fire broke out in the offices above ours, so our building had to be evacuated. Rather than hold all of us there, the bosses let us go home. Where's Harry?" Dudley sighed in relief as she diverted the topic to his cousin.

"He's in the kitchen. Got summat to show you." Petunia blinked at that then shrugged and hung her purse on one of the small hooks on the inside of the stairway cupboard. She moved into the kitchen to see her nephew staring at thick paper in his hand, while two thick envelopes rested beside him. One was empty, but the other remained full. The woman suffered a jolt when she recognized the seal on the back of the envelope that had been opened.

"Oh my…it's that time already…" She leaned against the doorjamb, one hand pressed to her throat in shock. Harry looked over his shoulder and grinned at his aunt. She stood up straight and moved over to the table and tilted forward over Harry's shoulder, peering at the paper to see if her suspicion was correct. The paper was just as she remembered it from seeing her sister's all those years ago. She sighed and sank into the chair that Dudley had been sitting in only minutes ago.

"You know what that is right Harry?"

"Yes Aunt Petunia. My…acceptance letter to a place called Hogwarts. Only I don't know why I'm getting an acceptance letter, I never applied to the school. Not sure I want to go even."

"We've talked about this Harry. This is the school that your mom and dad went to, and it's important that you learn how to control the power that's growing inside you. Besides, you've met someone from there before." This was the first bit of news to Harry. He laid a hand on Grimoire Wiess, who was beginning to have trouble staying silent.

"I do?"

"Oh yes. Do you remember the old man with the twinkling eyes who came here the day that horrible man vanished?" At Harry's nod, she smiled slightly. "That was Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of that school." Harry rocked back in his seat. "Besides, I'm sure you'd love it in Scotland." Dudley had reentered the kitchen, and was rummaging around in the refrigerator. When she said that line, his head jerked up and thumped into the partition that separated the freezer and refrigerator portions. The sound made Petunia turn around, causing her to miss the look of shock followed by realization that flitted across her nephew's face.

"Duddikins! Are you alright?" She stood up and rushed over to her son, who protested at the mothering that she began heaping upon him, grabbing a rag and wetting under the faucet to press against his forehead. The boy sent a pleading look from under his mother's arm to his cousin, who nodded slightly.

"Er, Aunt Petunia…I think I might like to go there after all. But…how do I get a message back to them? I don't know where to buy even one of these things on the list, or where this platform they're talking about is." She stood up, distracted from her still protesting son.

"Right. Sorry Harrikins, just a little worried about Dudley. Can't have him banging his precious head around outside of his classes. Where was – oh yes. Write a letter asking for a chaperone to take you to Diagon Alley. Then take it out back and say, softly so the neighbors don't here, that you have a letter to go to Hogwarts. You have to wait a minute, but if the owl that I saw hanging around out front, the school is expecting a response so you shouldn't wait too long."

"Owl?"

"Yes. Alright, if you're fine Dudley –" the boy nodded vehemently. "Then I am going to go take a nice hot shower. Have fun kids." She smiled at them before heading upstairs to her room. There was a silent pause before Harry scooted back, letting Grimoire Wiess free. The book floated back over the map, to once again hover above where he had felt the Leader Shade gathering its strength.

"Scotland…well…that settles that then doesn't it. I have to go." Dudley looked at his cousin, who was staring at the letter that he had opened.

"Hey Harry, what's the second letter?" That made Harry blink. He leaned over and picked up the other envelope. Surprisingly, it wasn't from the school. It was from a place called Gringotts. He picked up the butter knife and slit the envelope, then scanned the paper.

"Huh. They want to see me at my earliest convenience." He read further down. "They've got a location in … Odd. They've got a location in that place Aunt mentioned, Diagon Alley- Ok, what the bloody hell is with that name?" Dudley blinked and looked at his cousin, whose face was scrunched up slightly. Harry sighed and shook his head. "Never mind." He sighed and began rummaging for paper to write the letter. "I'll go see them on the same day that I'm getting my things for this school. Oh.. and Dudley, I'm-"

"Don't worry about it Harry. I'll be able to find something else to do to take up my time. This should give me time to relax and train. This…war of ours, we're going to need to be strong. You'll be learning magic, but me? I'll be relying on my muscles. And that means I need to know how to use them." Harry nodded slightly then sat down to draft up his letter. Grimoire Wiess floated in the air beside him silently, making only a few suggestions as Harry wrote.

_A whole new brand of magic, possibly on the level that we encountered with Emil…I only hope that none of these wizards ever have to suffer what that poor lad did._ The magick tome mused to itself, once more lost in thoughts of the past.

A few moments later Harry stood up and moved into the office, hunting for an envelope for his letter. When he finally found one, he sealed his letter within it and headed to the back yard. Feeling ridiculous, he held the letter up in one hand.

"I have a letter to go to Hogwarts." The phrase from his aunt emerged from his mouth. Despite her warning that it would take time, almost as soon as he had spoken something happened. A tremendous brown and black owl swooped from the roof of Number Three Privit Lane, its talons outstretched. Harry's mind blanked in shock, holding him in place long enough for the owl to strike.

Black claws wrapped around their target, then shot away. They left a stunned green eyed boy in their wake, staring after the owl as it carried the letter to its destination.

_Bloody Hell! SHE COULD HAVE TOLD ME THE OWL WAS THE MESSENGER!_ Harry nearly collapsed in relief, before heading back inside. He paused at the threshold to the kitchen and looked at his two allies in the war against the Shades.

"It's done, the letter is away. Now all I can do is wait and hope that a great bloody owl didn't take it thinking it was an oversized rat." There was a silence as Grimoire Wiess and Dudley digested that comment.

"More training until we get a response then?"

"Not much else we can do. Want to try my training Dudley?"

"How exactly is the whale child supposed to fight himself? I grant that he is large, but not _that_ large." Dudley glared at the ancient tome after that. Harry chuckled and waved his hand.

"Now now, try to get along, please. I meant, why don't we have Dudley try the dodging practice. He needs to know how to do it, especially since some of the Shades can cast a weaker version of Dark Blast." The larger boy blanched, while Wiess gained decidedly vicious aura.

"Now that is an idea I can support. To the training room!" Dudley whimpered, but a sharp look from his cousin made him slump over and head towards the training room. He groaned, already certain of the fact that he would end up black and blue after this. Harry and Grimoire Wiess followed after him, Wiess anticipating the chance of tormenting the boy; Harry deep in thought.

_**AN: And end of chapter. This one was a bit difficult at times, and will probably end up getting rewritten later on, when I have a clearer idea of how this is being received. Hope everyone enjoys!**_

_**Review responses:**_

**Xirik:**

Yes, this is indeed a HPxNier Crossover. I almost had that same problem, mostly because of that damned boar. I killed myself twice fighting it before realizing that they tell you to get your sorry ass out of there for a reason. Fantastic game ^.^

And not much argument between Harry and Wiess, though obvious tension between Wiess and Dudley.

"Wiess, you dumbass!" XD

**Fragonknight01:**

Come now, you don't need knowledge of Nier to read this! It's a help, not a requirement. Anything that I use from the game is going to be fully explained, either right away, or later on.

**LordNemesis:**

In honesty, I'm not sure of how this is going to turn out myself. Despite the fact that I love HP, this is much harder to write properly than my other fic. –shrug- I won't be terribly offended if you find things to criticize in it.

**Smithback:**

Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well. And the songs were appreciated, though not quite what I was looking for lol.

**Sgt. Nolisen:**

Hope you keep liking it despite the long delay.

**Phnxfyr1:**

Here's the next chapter then!

**Firelordeg:**

It allowed, eventually. College does put a major bite on time though.

**Nayami-chan:**

Lol, you and Firelordeg have the same reasoning I suppose. Don't need knowledge of the game, stuff will be explained, even the references to people that Wiess keeps making. Petunia is a …. That will be revealed later on. Bit important for the Christmas hols in year one. Ja matta Tomodachi!

_**Until the next chapter (which will be an update of my Naruto fic for those interested), keep on keeping on!**_

_**G.T. out!**_


	3. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own Nier. No joke here today, sorry.**_

_**Chapter Two: Diagonally (No Wiess, it's Diagon Alley.); **_

_**Number Four Privet Lane**_

Harry was pacing back and forth anxiously near the door, Grimoire Wiess stored in a bag on his back. They had come to this solution when Wiess demanded that he be allowed to accompany Harry when the representative from the school showed up, and Harry had adamantly refused to let anyone else find out about the magickal tome. The pacing boy glanced at the small table where the letter that they had received back was laying open, looking innocuous.

_Dear Mr. Potter:_

_ We have received your request for an escort to Diagon Alley to carry out your shopping for the requisite school supplies, and have selected one from our staff. One of the professors will arrive at the location of Number Four Privet Lane at ten thirty five in the morning three days from now. Please be ready to travel with him to your destination._

_Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

A peek at the clock showed that it was ten thirty two. In Harry's mind, if the man was going to be late he could have at least sent word ahead saying so! He sighed – at least Aunt Petunia had been able to get the day off so she could see him off, something she hadn't been sure she would be able to do. She was currently coming down the stairs, a smile on her face.

"Harry, they said ten thirty five right?" The boy nodded. "Then the teacher will be here at exactly that time. They tend to be pretty punctual when it comes to appointments." She was the other reason that Wiess was in the bag. It wouldn't do for her to find out about him just yet. Though he loved his aunt and had brought Dudley had found out about the ancient tome, Petunia was still in the dark about what was going on, and both boys preferred that it stay that way.

Harry bit his lip and nodded. After all, she had more experience with the professors of Hogwarts than he did, so he couldn't really go arguing against her. The slightly nervous preteen resumed pacing back and forth in the small foyer, his agitated movements causing the knapsack on his back to bounce slightly. His aunt watched him pace back and forth, wondering where on earth this nervousness had come from. Half an hour ago he had been perfectly fine, but now it was if he was afraid of the person who was coming.

A knocking on the front door caused both people to blink and turn to the entrance. The odd thing about the knocking was that it was closer to Harry's height than to Petunia's – had a neighborhood child gotten lost or something similar? Harry looked to his aunt helplessly before shrugging and going to the door and opening it.

The sight he met startled the boy. Instead of a round-faced child, there was a wizened old man with an amused glint in his eyes, framed behind round glasses. A pointed green and blue plaid hat bent down over his face, sitting on top of white sparse white hair. The man truly was nearly Harry's height – at around four feet tall, not counting the hat, Harry was actually just a few shades taller than the man in front of him.

"Ah! Are you Mister Potter?" At the raven haired child's dumbfounded nod, the man clapped his hands. "Excellent, excellent! Mr. Potter, I am Professor Filius Flitwick, may I come in?" Harry continued to stare in shock at the shrunken man, until Petunia placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him out of the way, and gestured for the man to come in. Now looking even more amused, Flitwick stepped across the threshold, and was led to the small living room.

"Professor, what is it you teach?" Harry was looking for confirmation that this man wasn't just trying to pull a fast one on them – he didn't notice the thoughtful look on his aunt's face. The Professor simply grinned and pulled a slender wooden rod from one sleeve, and pointed it at one of the small nutcrackers that was on the mantle, a leftover reminder of Christmas past. The sparking green eyes framed by black glasses shot open wide when the wooden figure's jaw suddenly snapped shut and his arms came up from his sides, saluting the three people in the room.

"I am the Professor of Charms and Enchanting at Hogwarts, and the Head of Ravenclaw House." Petunia let out a triumphant noise at the man's words.

"You're the one that Lily was always talking about! You were her favorite teacher back then… and…" She stared at him before nodding in satisfaction. "And you're the one who introduced my parents to magic when Lily got her letter. Harry, you're in good hands." Harry looked at his aunt in shock before turning to the small man. For some reason, there was a tugging feeling in his chest that he thought he had long since gotten past.

"Yes, yes indeed Miss Evans! Though I do say, you look quite different from when I last saw you. Now then, Mister Potter, it's time we be off to Diagon Alley." Flitwick thought he heard a muffled groan come from Harry's direction, but seeing no one else, he shrugged it off mentally though he did file it away for later consideration. "One of my colleagues is also picking up a young girl today, and maybe you can make a new acquaintance before the school year even starts!" To this, Harry snorted.

"No offense Professor, but I doubt it. I read too much for that." For some reason, his words made the small man's grin grow wider before he stood up from the stool he had sat on.

"You might find yourself surprised then Mister Potter. Nonetheless, we really should be off yes? Want to beat the rush of shoppers and all that." Harry nodded and hugged his aunt goodbye before following the Professor out of the room, only to blink in confusion when Flitwick headed to the back yard instead of the front door. Once the two were outside, the raven haired preteen looked at the wizened little man confusedly.

"Uhm, Professor, mind telling me why we are out here? While one of the owls might be able to carry you, I'm a bit too big for that…" His words drew an amused chuckle from the Professor.

"Mildly inquisitive and with a sense of humor, just like your mother. No, we aren't going to be picked up by owls, but we can't exactly have muggles seeing how we do leave. Now then Harry, take my arm – I am going to Side-Along Apparate you to a place called the Leaky Cauldron, from which we'll enter the Alley." Harry nodded and gripped the shorter male's arm tightly – this sounded slightly dangerous, and there was no way on earth he wanted to get lost in the middle of it. Flitwick chuckled again and gently pulled on Harry's arm to get him to release the deathgrip the boy had assumed, then closed his eyes and concentrated.

The first thing Harry felt was like he was approaching a tunnel on foot. A sense of tightness began pressing around his body, like he was being squeezed through a tube of toothpaste. The pressure increased across his entire being, making him think that his bones were getting close to breaking, or in danger of being turned to jelly. Then he lost the ability to see, the world around him going completely black, along with a sudden loss of all sensation, as if he had been dropped into a sensory-deprivation vat.

Then the world around him exploded back into color and life. The strange, nearly unbearable pressure flitted across his body again, but only for a moment. The strangest thing, or possibly what he should have expected, was that they were no longer in the back yard of Number Four Privet Lane. Instead they were in what looked to be a small waiting room in a musty building. Harry coughed slightly as the smoky atmosphere got to him, causing Flitwick to blink and look at him in concern before realizing what the problem was.

The man pulled his wand back out and twirled it around in a circle before jabbing it towards Harry's head. The boy's eyes widened as a thin film sprang up from his neck, a light pressure that he barely noticed, and curved around his head. He tilted his head and twisted his head around as much as he could, looking all around himself, then turned his gaze back to the man.

"Uhm, professor, why did you just put a fishbowl on my head?" His voice sounded slightly strange to him – not quite like it was bouncing off glass, but muted, like it was encountering cloth or something. Then he realized that he wasn't having any problem breathing and smiled. "Nevermind, I think I figured it out. It's some kind of spell that cancels out negative environmental affects right?" Flitwick's eyes glinted in amusement as the man nodded.

"Now that you've got that figured out Harry, it's time we get to Gringotts." The short man didn't catch the look of momentary confusion on Harry's face before he shrugged and gestured for the professor to lead the way. Flitwick pushed open the door that was in front of the duo, revealing that they were in what to Harry looked almost exactly like he had always imagined a pub would. "Welcome to the Leaky Tavern."

Harry had to walk carefully as he followed the much shorter man. Not because he lost track of him, though that did nearly happen twice when people leaned back on their seats, but to avoid jarring the bag with Wiess in it any more than he had to. He hitched the bag up on his shoulder slightly, and flinched when he felt the bag float up slightly. Inside, Wiess was floating up near the top of the bag and pulling it up with him, trying to get where he could talk to Harry if he needed to. Piercing green eyes flicked back and forth to see if anyone was staring at him, but so far, no one seemed to think a floating bag was odd.

"Tom, this is Harry. How bad is the line to get through the portal?" Harry blinked in startlement as he looked up. Flitwick was talking with the man standing behind the bar, who had to lean forward and look over to see the shorter man. The bartender shrugged slightly as he looked up from the professor towards the young boy.  
"The line isn't bad, Minerva's been bringing in new students in the afternoon." He froze, his eyes locked on Harry. The boy shifted nervously under the bartender's gaze, wondering if he was going to comment on the bag that was either floating or lighter than it should be. When he spoke, Harry braced himself to run rather than have his secret outed.

"Bless my soul, is that-"

"Yes it is, and I will thank you _not_ to draw the attention of this entire place. Harry here is just trying to get his supplies for his first year, he doesn't need this lot flocking around him like a pack of hungry jackals." Tom's mouth snapped shut at Flitwick's reprimand, leaving whatever he had been about to say unspoken. With a glare at the bartender, Flitwick placed one hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him out of the pub – out through the back door, something that made the boy's eyebrows rise in confusion.

They emerged from the smoky atmosphere of the pub into a muggy alley. Once they were clear of the smoke that had made Harry cough, Flitwick tapped the bubble that he had placed around the boy's head, causing it to vanish, giving the raven-haired preteen a lungful of damp air. The professor watched the boy for a moment to make sure that he was ok, then proceeded towards the back of the alley, where there was a solid brick wall.

Harry decided to take a chance with this professor. Apparently his aunt knew the man, at least somewhat, and from her reaction he wasn't a bad person. Aside from that, he needed to have at least one person outside of his family who knew of Weiss, and if this man would be walking with him for the foreseeable future, then there was a high chance that the ancient tome would accidentally reveal himself. Keeping that in mind, the green-eyed boy grabbed Flitwick's shoulder.

"Uhm, Professor is there something that you can do to make sure that no one is watching us? I have something I want to show you before we go anywhere else." The short man paused, his wand almost touching a brick on the wall, and turned back to look at Harry. There was a trace of worry in the man's gaze.

"Is everything all right Harry?" His voice was concerned. The man had visions of a bruised and battered boy, one who was going to show him that he had been abused. Understandably, he was confused when Harry slung the back pack from his shoulders and set it down on the ground, and opened it up. When the boy looked up at him, he started and cast a privacy charm that obscured them and their words. "Done. Now what is it?"

"Weiss, come on out. We have to trust at least one of them." Flitwick tilted his head confusedly. He was opening his mouth to say that his first name wasn't 'Weiss' when he nearly fell back in startlement. Out of the bag that Harry had opened up came a heavy book, bound in dark brown and silver from what Flitwick could see.

"I hope you know what you're doing Harry." This time, the Hogwarts Professor _did_ jump. Of all the things he had been expecting, hearing that book speak was not on the list. When the object spun around in mid-air, the Professor was treated to the sight of a silver etched face standing out in relief on the front of the tome. It floated over towards him and the demi-goblin turned around in a circle to track it while it seemed to examine him.

"Professor Flitwick, this is Grimoire Weiss. Weiss, this is Professor Filius Flitwick, who teaches Charms and Enchanting at Hogwarts. Professor." The short man's gaze returned to the raven haired boy. "Weiss is a friend of mine, and I have known him for a long time now. I brought him out so you could meet him before we got anywhere there were people. There is something I need to do with Weiss' help, and I was hoping you would help me keep him a secret from the other students and Professors at Hogwarts. I may tell some other people, but I don't think it would be a good idea for most people to know about him." Flitwick frowned and held up his wand.

"Would you mind if I cast an examination charm on this book Harry? I need to know you haven't been enthralled by a black book."

"I take affront to that sir. I am older than your brand of magic's creator! Go ahead, cast your little charm on me. You won't understand the reading you get from it after all. There isn't a man or woman alive who would." Weiss' arrogant tone set the Professor's teeth on edge, but he cast the charm anyway. The aura that appeared to his eyes around the magickal tome seemed to shift and fade between three hues – a dark gray, light gray, and a red streaked with black. Flitwick frowned – the last one wasn't what normal black magic would appear as under this charm, and the other two colors were ones that he had never seen before.

"I see the confusion and disappointment on your face. I told you – I was ancient when Merlin lived, I saw the Fall of Atlantis. My magick is of a brand that your world has not seen since last I stirred. But worry yourself not. I have pledged myself to aiding the child." With that, Grimoire Weiss floated back over to Harry and settled down into the bag again with what sounded like an exasperated snort.

For several minutes Flitwick just stood there, turning over the new situation in his head. Eventually the tiny man put his wand away and sighed, shaking his head. He lifted one hand to break the barrier of the privacy charm that he had put up, but before he did he remembered that he had to answer Harry's question.

"I will help you keep it from the other Professor's on two conditions. One, tell the Headmaster. He has seen much and traveled far – he might have heard stories about your…friend there."

"And the second condition?"

"Try to get into my House Harry my boy. You are wickedly intelligent, and I don't want to see another genius get sorted into Gryffindor." There was a grin on Flitwick's face now. He had always regretted not trying harder to get Lily sorted into Ravenclaw, and figured he would start earlier with her son when he had the chance. With that he broke the barrier and headed over to the stone wall.

Harry followed the Professor, puzzled by that last statement. Why on earth did Flitwick want Harry to join his house? Was he offering to adopt Harry or something? The bespectacled boy rubbed the bridge of his nose in confusion, only to stop when Flitwick pulled his wand back out and glanced over his shoulder at the boy.

"Pay close attention to the order here Harry. You likely won't have a professor with you next time after all." He then proceeded to tap several of the bricks, seemingly at random though the bespectacled boy did notice that they were in a counter-clockwise spiral. After pressing seven bricks, the wand was stowed away and Flitwick stepped aside slightly, letting Harry see what was happening.

The boy's eyes widened as he watched the bricks that had been tapped began spinning in place, only to start a cascade of bricks that shifted and rotated in the same manner. Before the astonished boy's eyes the bricks in the unassuming wall rearranged to show an elegant arched doorway, through which could be seen a busy, busy street with people walking back and forth, under signs that made no sense to Harry.

For some reason the boy felt like he did that day when he was crawling through the tunnel. No – that wasn't quite right. It felt like when he was standing in front of the pedestal, reading the inscription that had changed his life. He took a deep breath and tensed himself.

"Once more through the Veil I go." His muttered words made Flitwick blink and look at him just as he stepped through the threshold. The goblin-descent Professor followed a few paces behind him and guided the young lad forward.  
"Welcome then Harry, to Diagon Alley!" The tiny Professor waved his arm grandly, sweeping his hand in an arc to gesture to the entire Alley. He blinked several times when he heard a muffled voice coming from Harry's bag – and if he hadn't already known who was in there, he would have been most disturbed.

"Diagonally. Why must you people use these ridiculous puns?"

"Weiss, shut up, it's Diagon Alley." Harry hit the side of his bag with the heel of his hand, causing his shirt to lift up slightly. Flitwick's eyes widened when he saw what looked to be the hilt of a dagger strapped onto Harry's waist, though when the shirt dropped there was no sign it was there. He frowned, but before he could bring it up Harry spoke again, cutting him off and interrupting his thoughts.

"So Professor, how exactly am I going to pay for all of this? My aunt doesn't have the money to pay for all of these exotic supplies." The fiery green eyes turned to regard the Charms Professor, curiosity shining inside of them. Flitwick chuckled and shook his head and indicated that the boy should follow him as he started walking down the busy street.

"Harry, your father's family wasn't too badly off. And while you can't access the main vault yet, you do have a trust fund set up for your school work. So we're going to the bank that wizards and witches use to store the money and goods. I do warn you to be polite when talking to the bankers here – they can be a bit…touchy." The Professor grinned slightly, showing a bit of his teeth. He wasn't warning Harry about who it was that ran the bank, to find out just how the boy would react to seeing the Goblins.

The two of them moved down the street with Harry ducking his head and studying the cobblestones underneath his feet, keeping his head up just enough to see where the man who was acting as his guide was and where he was going. He wasn't doing this to memorize the pattern of the stones – but to keep people from seeing his scar. He had caught on that it was his scar that the barkeep in the Leaky Tavern had reacted to, and he wanted to prevent anyone else from reacting like that. For some reason, the raven-haired boy felt that if the professor hadn't stopped Tom from speaking, things would not have gone so smoothly for him.

Harry's ponderings were brought to a halt when the duo came to a stop. The glasses-wearing boy looked up slowly to see an imposing marble edifice – this was more than just a building! In front of massive wooden doors studded and barred with metal were twin pillars of white stone, with what looked to be dragons carved out of bronze gleaming on top of them. Above the doorway was a plaque of some silvery metal with letters etched into it in some spidery font. However, before the boy could read what was written there, Flitwick had climbed polished marble steps and was standing at the doorway, looking back at him expectantly.

With a slight blush Harry hurried up the stairs after the Professor, who simply laughed off the apology the younger wizard offered. He laid his hand on the door behind him and pushed on it, making Harry blink. There was no way this tiny man would be able to move a door that looked to be one hundred times his size, or more! Then to Harry's amazement a much smaller section of the impressive opened inwards in the shape of a door, one that was closer to the size of a normal doorway. It did seem to be a fair bit larger, but it had nothing on the size of the full doorway.

Flitwick watched in amusement as his ward entered Gringotts bank, so busy taking in the architecture and atmosphere of the place that he had yet to notice the being rushing back and forth around him, almost like bees or ants in a hive. It was only a matter of time before he did notice though, and his future Professor waited expectantly for that to happen.

Harry suddenly found his attention tore from studying the much darker interior of the building when he felt someone get extremely close to him. The young boy slipped backwards rapidly, startling Flitwick. The raven-haired lad looked at the person that he had almost run into, he hadn't even slowed down before rushing off.

He was shocked to see that it was a small creature that was about four feet tall. Gnarled green skin stretched over the body and ears which spiked out from the head by about half a foot. There was a hooked nose that stretched out nearly a foot from its face; and black, jagged nails that sank down several inches from the ends of its fingers. It was in a business suit that looked like a male version of what his aunt wore when she went off to work, though obviously it was shrunk down to match the being's size.

Harry stumbled over to where Flitwick was standing and stopped near the small professor, looking about him with wide eyes as he saw more and more of the small, evil looking people rushing about everywhere, all looking very intent on what they were doing. The young boy stood beside the man for a long moment, then turned his head towards the teacher.

"Professor Flitwick, who are these people?" The Charms Professor grinned widely – Harry hadn't called his kin 'monsters' or 'creatures', but automatically assigned them as people. That spoke well for what the Professor was considering doing. But for now he had a question to answer.

"These are Goblins Harry. In the wizarding world, they mostly run the bank system. They are _very_ good at what they do. In all of the years that they have been entrusted with this task, nothing has ever been successfully stolen from the bank. Now come along, we need to get you some funds for your impending shopping spree. Oh and Harry – here." The diminutive instructor reached into one of his pockets and pulled a slender silver key with an embellished 'P' on it in an ornate script. He handed the key to the boy with a grin. "This is your Gringotts key my boy. Take care of it, as replacing it will require your blood."

The young boy blanched and tightened his hand around the key, swearing that there was no way he would lose it. He followed the Professor for several feet, only to nearly run over him when Flitwick stopped and stared off to one side, apparently startled by what he saw there. The boy turned to follow his guide's gaze and blinked in shock.

Whereas so far the people in the building were Harry's size or smaller – not counting the few adult wizards. So the sight of a man who was about three times as large as the Goblins or Harry truly threw the boy for a loop. He leaned over towards Flitwick and whispered in the small man's ear.

"Professor, is something wrong? Do you recognize that man or something?"

"Yes Harry, I actually do. That's Rubeus Hagrid, one of the staff at Hogwarts. He isn't a Professor though, he's the Groundskeeper there. And I am a little shocked to see him here, I didn't know he had any business-brace yourself Harry, he's coming over here and will probably want to talk to you." Harry looked up to see that Flitwick's words were true – the tremendous man that they had spotted was walking towards them.

"Blimey, is that little 'arry?" Harry blinked several times up at the large man. _Isn't EVERYONE 'little'? I've never been jealous of someone's height before today…._ The raven-haired boy shook his head vigorously to clear that thought.

"Er, yes, I am Harry…uhm, who are you and how do you know me?" The large man chuckled, the noise as large as he was. Flitwick shook his head slightly while listening to this – they were taking far longer than he had thought they would, and now with Hagrid here, they'd be taking even more time.

"I've known ye since ye were a babe 'arry! Carried ye-"

"Hagrid, Harry here will be attending Hogwarts in a few weeks, and I'll make sure that he comes down to visit you and you can talk with him then. But for now we're on a slight time schedule and need to get on with our business here. And I think you should too." The tiny man interrupted the much larger one, who chuckled ruefully and nodded.

"Right ye are Perfesser, wouldn't want to keep the great man waiting." The huge man nodded to the small man and clapped Harry on the shoulder, nearly sending the boy to the ground. Then with a slight wave to the two, he moved off towards the rear wall of the main chamber, where several Goblins were sitting behind large desks.

Flitwick led Harry towards a different desk than the one that Hagrid had gone to. He prompted the boy to step forward from behind him to stand closer to the desk. The Goblin sitting at this desk seemed to be staring at the Professor intently. The tiny man laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Not here on business for myself today. Young Harry needs to access his school vault." His voice was bland as he spoke, trying to transfer the Goblin clerk's attention to the boy who was his ward for the day. The clerk turned his gaze towards the glasses-wearing boy, who nodded slightly.

"And does this young man have his key?" The Goblin leaned forward and peered over his nose at Harry. The boy held up his hand holding the key towards the Goblin, who accepted it from him and studied it. After a moment the clerk nodded and rang a bell on his desk. A few moments later another Goblin appeared from a doorway near the desk and came forward, looking irritated.

"Griphook here will take you to your vault." The Goblin who had just arrived gestured brusquely for the duo to follow him as he led them off towards one side of the main chamber. The two kept silent – Flitwick because he knew what was going on, and Harry because he simply couldn't think of anything to say or ask at the moment that wouldn't slow them down. Eventually the Goblin guide showed them to a small platform next to a set of rails that resembled something Harry had seen on TV – a rollercoaster. Sitting on top of these rails was a cart that looked like it had been slapped together with only a few boards and nails.

"Climb in please." Griphook gestured to the cart. At a prompting nudge from Flitwick Harry clambered into the cart, wincing as it wobbled with his weight. Thankfully when the Professor and Griphook entered the cart the movement of the rickety contraption was much less. Harry clung to the front of the cart as the other two entered – with Flitwick just leaning against the side and Griphook standing near a lever in the cart.

The Goblin pushed forward on the lever, and the cart launched in the direction Harry was facing – rocketing away from the small platform fast enough to shove Harry's hair backwards in the wind. The two guides grinned at each other when after a few moments the young boy threw his hands up into the air with a scream of joy as they went around a wide turn. They were about halfway along the tracks when Harry suddenly dropped his hands – he had heard something in the depths below them roaring loudly.

For some reason that roar made Grimoire Weiss shiver in his bag – he had heard something similar to that roar a lifetime ago, but this was cleaner. He turned that over in his head until he heard Harry say something above him.

"Mr. Griphook, can this go faster?" The Goblin blinked – and nodded slowly. "Then please sir, can we go faster? This is awesome!"Griphook turned his gaze towards Flitwick, who shrugged and gestured back to him, indicating that it was up to the Gringotts employee if they went faster or not. The Goblin shrugged slightly and thrust the lever down even further. For a moment nothing happened – and then the cart shot forward even faster, breaking the sound barrier with a resounding boom. Harry was screaming with joy as he clung to the cart.

Too soon for Harry's liking the cart slowed to a stop, at another railway platform like the one that they climbed into the cart at. Harry stumbled out looking slightly dazed – and his hair was all blown backwards into spikes and waves. Flitwick stepped out to stand beside him and placed one hand on his shoulder to help him stand up straight. The two were soon passed by Griphook, who had somehow acquired a lantern in the three seconds they couldn't see him.

The Goblin led the way to a giant vault door that looked to Harry like it had been carved out of obsidian. The door was large enough to dwarf even the giant man that he had met in the foyer of the bank. Griphook headed to the door and paused to wait for Harry and Flitwick to catch up to him. When the two had, the bank employee turned to the young boy.

"Hold please." He held out the lantern. The raven-haired boy took it in one hand, looking slightly confused. Why on earth was he being asked to hold the lantern? Before he could voice his question, the Gringotts worker held out one gnarled hand.

"Key please." Harry bit back a frown as he shifted so that he could hold the lantern on his hip and balance it there with one hand. Then he began fishing around in his pocket, until he found the key. The glasses wearing human held the ornate key to the Goblin, who took it and spun around to the massive door. The green-skinned being moved to the center of the door and then four paces left, still close to the center due to the door's tremendous size, then traced one finger over the etchings on the vault door.

Suddenly he stopped and tapped one claw against what looked to Harry like any other part of the door. Then he swung open a tiny latch that melded into the door seamlessly, and inserted the key into a hole that had been covered by that latch. Griphook stepped back as the three listened to deep rumblings from within the door frame. A few minutes passed before the door creaked open by a few inches.

"Your vault sir. Lantern please." Harry handed the lamp back to the Goblin, then stumbled to the entrance to his vault. Flitwick stepped up behind him, chuckling softly. The man placed one hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly before pushing him inside.

Harry's green eyes swept across the piles of coins that laid around, scattered as if something had charged through them. He frowned slightly – nothing should lay about like this. The raven-haired boy turned around so that he was facing the entrance and poked his head out.

"Uhm, Mr. Griphook, how much would it cost to have someone sort and stack all of this money? It's just….it doesn't look organized in here…" The Goblin frowned – the last time he had performed a check on the vault – when Harry's school letter had been verified as accepted – the vault had been in perfect order.

"If I might look inside Mr. Potter?" Harry nodded quickly and stepped back, allowing the Goblin to examine the interior. Griphook's teeth drew back in a snarl of rage – the stacks of coins that he had organized himself were strewn across the floor, and shoved into large mounds. If he didn't know better he'd say that one of the Dragons had somehow gotten inside the vault and tried to make it into a nest, but he knew that was impossible since the grand guardians were kept in much lower levels than this one. He turned his attention to the boy and bowed apologetically.

"I'm sorry for this Mr. Potter. The vault was organized but a mere two days ago, when your headmaster gave us the list of which school vaults would become active. I will find out who is responsible for this mess. For the meantime I am sorry to say that there is no fast way to stack the coins. I can however, tell you that all of the coins are the same and that there are approximately two thousand galleons in here." The boy nodded, not knowing how much a galleon was worth, and asked another question.

"Is it alright if I put some of the money in my bag sir?"

"Perfectly all right Mister Potter. We Goblins are charged with safeguarding your money, not telling you what to do with it." The boy frowned at that. A young boy was being allowed to do whatever he wanted with this kind of money? Unless galleons were worth only pence, he was pretty sure he had at least some kind of a substantial amount here. Then he saw Flitwick standing in the doorway and realized that the Professor was probably there to keep some kind of watch over his actions. That made him nod and relax a bit. Then he set his knapsack on the ground and opened it.

A glare at Wiess told the magical Grimoire to keep silent as Harry started counting coins into the bag. He kept in mind that there were supposed to be two thousand total in the vault, so he moved around picking up tens of the golden coins at a time, then going back to his bag and pouring them in. He did notice that every time he put money in, Grimoire Wiess made sure he was out of the way, then settled on top of them as Harry moved away. The young glasses-wearing boy only counted himself out two hundred of the coins – figuring that HAD to be enough for anything. When he looked up he saw Flitwick nodding from the entrance, as if satisfied that the boy had stopped at that amount.

Harry sealed his bag shut and picked it up onto his back again, then nodded to Griphook. The two of them left the vault as Flitwick stepped aside from the entrance, then the three of them headed to the cart. Along the way there came that unnatural roar again, though this time Griphook frowned in thought.

_Need to have the Dragon handlers check their charges. Something sounds off with that one._ The Goblin tucked that thought into the back of his mind and continued guiding the cart along the rails to the central station of the bank. When they arrived Flitwick was the first off, followed by Harry then Griphook. The cart rattled off down the tracks as the trio headed towards the entrance.

In the main portion of the bank, the lobby where they had been handed over to their guide, the two said their goodbyes to Griphook. As they left the bank the Goblin turned and headed for his manager's office, intent on finding out who had gotten into his client's vault.

Outside of the bank, Harry turned to Flitwick with a cheery expression on his face. The short Professor smiled slightly at the look on Harry's face and had a good idea what had caused it. On their way back on the cart, Griphook had tilted the cart up to full speed the entire way. He shook his head slightly.

"Alright Mr. Potter, now that we have your money we need to gather your supplies. You do have the list correct?" Harry nodded and reached around his back to one of the side pockets on that was on his knapsack. He pulled out the letter that Hogwarts had sent it and showed it to the man. Filius glanced over it and saw that all of the standard books and supplies were on the page, and nodded slightly to himself. He pulled out a quill and made some notations on the page then pushed it back to Harry.

"Those are some of the books that Ravenclaws usually end up buying once they have started in classes. They might help you even if you aren't placed into my House." The little man's eyes were sparkling with mischief. He fully expected that the intelligent and interactive young man would be happy to have the added books on the list, and would delve into them fully. He was proven right when the boy's eyes lit up and a grin split his cheeks.

Of course he was then startled when the boy suddenly vanished. The stunned and shocked Professor whirled around, trying to figure out what had happened to the boy. There had been no portkey activated, or apparation used, and there was no sign of disillusionment in use. What had happened to the bo- then he saw it. There was Harry's backpack, disappearing into Flourish and Blott's. The diminutive man threw his head back and laughed, not the squeaky laugh someone who expect from someone as tall as he, but actually a deeper laugh.

Somehow, Harry had run fast enough to disappear from Flitwick's gaze. The Hogwarts professor calmed down from his laughing and headed towards the bookstore – for some reason, he felt that he should have known where the young man was going to go. He headed towards the store, wondering if he would have trouble finding the hyperactive child in the shop.

He was more right than he knew. When Flitwick entered the bookstore, he was startled to find a colleague of his leaning against the wall with a bemused expression on her face. The severe bun in her hair gave her a harsher expression normally, so seeing the slight smile on her lips startled the short man. He walked over to her and shook her hand.

"Hello Minerva. Which child are you here for?" The smaller Professor had to ask – his coworker did not have a wide-eyed child by her side. The woman gave a short chuckle and pointed into the space between shelves.

"One of those two blurs is mine Filius. I don't know which." Flitwick blinked and looked in the direction that Minerva had pointed. Sure enough, there were two piles of books sitting on the ground, and two young children rushing back and forth between the various shelves, adding books to the pile. At first Filius couldn't tell the two apart either – both were moving too fast for children of their age – and then he realized that one was going to a stack of books that had a large backpack next to it. He chuckled as Minerva spoke again.

"I had enough trouble keeping track of her when we first came in here. Wee girl kept trying to run off and do what they're doing now. Then this boy with black hair came barreling in, dropped his bag on the ground, and started snatching books off the shelves, barely looking at his parchment. When she saw that, I simply couldn't hold Miss Granger at my side any more – she darted off and started doing the same. What on earth? That book isn't on the standard list!" This last was directed at Harry's pile of books – on the top was an introductory material to basic dueling. Flitwick chuckled again and held his colleague's arm when she tried going to pick it up.

"That's my ward for the day. I added a few things to his list, that's one of them. Oh look! Miss Gra-What did you say her name was.. ah, Miss Granger, she just picked up a copy for herself! I have a feeling she's going to end up in Ravenclaw as well. Sorry McGonagall dear lady!"

"Oh hush you. Oh dear. That's the last copy of that book in here and they both want it…"

Harry was having the time of his life. He was in a bookstore with books that he had never seen or heard of before on all kinds of subjects. He had a large surplus of money to buy with – and most of the standard items on his list had prices listed next to them, so he could set aside that money. Even with the additions that Flitwick made, and the other school supplies, Harry had barely spent half of the money that he had.

But now he had a problem. He was holding on to one end of the last book that Professor Flitwick had added onto his list. On the other end of the book was a young girl with bushy mahogany hair, and an incredibly determined look on her face. Neither child would let go of the book. Harry would pull it towards him causing the girl to slide towards him, then she would pull it back, causing him to scoot across the floor towards her. The glasses-wearing boy wasn't using all of his strength of course, he hadn't realized that he wasn't.

Then he did. The brown-haired girl only had time to blink when a triumphant grin appeared on the raven-haired boy's face, then she was flying towards him. The two went down in a heap on the ground, with Harry laying on a few of the books on the edges of the book piles, and the girl was on top of him, having landed solidly on one of his legs. For a moment the two laid there, slightly dazed. Then the girl was lifted to her feet by an older woman with her hair tied in a harsh bun. Harry blinked at this woman, confused, then saw his guiding professor standing nearby and laughing. The short man helped the boy to his feet and shook his head.

"Minerva, this is Harry. Who is your young one?" The girl, still recovering from the fall, didn't realize that she was being talked about.

"Harry?" McGonagall blinked slightly in shock – she had thought she would be the one sent to pick that boy up. She shook her head quickly – the scar confirmed who it was, though the wound was concealed by his hair rather well. "This is Hermione."

"Hello Miss Hermione! I'm Harry Potter, and no one has ever fought me for a book as well as you did!" Harry broke free of Filius' grasp and moved over in front of the girl. He looked down at the book in his hand, then up at the short professor.

"Sir, do I need this book right away?" The brown haired girl's eyes came back into focus just in time to see the short man wearing the pointy cap shake his head. Then she was startled to see the boy whom she had been playing tug of war over a book with holding it out towards her. Hermione looked down at it, slightly confused – he had won, so why wasn't he taking it?

"Here. I have others to read and get caught up on, and I can always come back another time to buy another copy of this book when they have one. Please, take it. Please?" She looked at the boy who was holding the book towards her, and took it with a small smile.

"Thank you. Uhm. My name is Hermione. Are you..are you going to Hogwarts?" She didn't know that she had already been introduced. She relaxed slightly at Harry's nod. The four people started collecting the books – Harry grabbing his backpack with Weiss inside, Hermione clutching the book to her chest, and the two teachers using minor charms to sort the books then levitation charms to pick the two stacks up. They headed towards the front of the store, with the conversation continuing.

"Oh that's great! Now I'll know someone going in. I was so afraid that I wouldn't know anyone on top of barely knowing anything. I'm sorry, see, both my parents are muggles, dentists actually, and though I did some strange things when I was younger I never really thought much about magic until the letter from Hogwarts showed up and even then I didn't believe it, not until Professor McGonagall showed up today and showed up and oh no I'm sorry I'm just babbling a mile a minute!" Hermione blushed and brought the book up to cover her face, barely peeking over the top at Harry, who as grinning widely.

"I don't mind. Uhm. Let's see. My parents were a witch and wizard but they died when I was really young. I was raised by my aunt, who is a mundane. I did know about magic before the Hogwarts letter showed up." At that point they reached the counter where they found out they had a problem.

The stipend that Hermione received as a first-generation witch was barely enough to cover her normal school supplies.

"I'm sorry Miss Granger, you can't get those other books. If I let you, you wouldn't have enough money left over to buy your other school supplies. Here sir, you'll have to sort these back onto their shelves." The young girl looked devastated as she was led out of the store, carrying the bag of her books that she was allotted money for. McGonagall looked upset that she had to do that – she would have preferred letting Hermione get her books, but with the budget they were on it simply wasn't possible.

Harry looked over at Flitwick, who looked back at him curiously. The young boy shifted nervously in front of the desk clerk, who was looking slightly irritated at the thought of having to reshelf the ten books that Hermione had to leave behind. The young black-haired boy stepped forward, with Filius setting the books up on the counter.

"Let me guess, I have to restack your extra books too? Fantastic, it's not like I don't have other things to do today, no of course not." The young man was more than a bit rude in Harry's eyes. The dark green orbs narrowed behind the glasses as the raven-haired child drew himself up to his full height.

"Not quite you prick. I'm buying all of these books as well as the ones she left behind. Then I'm going to talk to your manager about you working here." The clerk had frozen as the boy started speaking. His gaze was locked on Harry's forehead, where they child's hair had fallen to the side, revealing the scar on his forehead.

"H-Har-Harry P-p-p-p-Potter!" The clerk had turned stark white. He stared in shock at the new young wizard, who was looking at him confusedly. He hadn't introduced himself to the clerk, so had did the man know his name? Unfortunately before he could ask about that, Filius stepped forward and rapped the counter.

"Give my ward the price for all of his books sir, now." There was a cold hardness in the professor's voice – he had not liked the tone in the clerk's voice any more than Harry had. The clerk gave out a small 'eep' before hurriedly counting up the total for the books, and then read it to Harry. The boy nodded and swung his backpack around, making sure the clerk couldn't see inside. Then he started counting the gold coins out – it only cost him around seventy for all of the books, which left him with more than enough for the rest of his supplies.

"Now put those books in a separate bag from mine." The young man obeyed without saying a word, which did confuse Harry slightly, though he didn't show it. He then handed the two large bags to Harry, who took them and his change from the dumbfounded clerk with a nod. Then the glasses-wearing boy sprinted outside as fast as he could, in time to see Professor McGonagall walking into the wand shop. He took off towards it with Professor Flitwick walking behind him bemusedly.

The small bell on the shop door rang from just behind Minerva, making her blink and turn around. She saw the young man that her ward had met in the shop standing there out of breath behind her, holding a bag from the Flourish and Blott's store. She put one hand out to stop him.

"Hold here Mr. Potter, Miss Granger is testing her wands and does not need you gloating about the books." She took a step backwards from the anger that flashed in Harry's eyes as he straightened himself up.

"I wouldn't do that to someone, especially not over something as precious as knowledge. Here, when she gets done would you please give this to her? You don't have to tell her it's from me ok? Just say a concerned wealthy wizard wants to see knowledge spread out and not restricted just to those with coins." Harry handed her the bag of books and slipped back out of the door, leaving McGonagall standing there holding the surprisingly heavy bag with a stunned expression on her face. She had seen the type of mundane man that Vernon had been – she had no idea how a man like that could have possibly raised a boy like Harry was apparently. Then she remembered that when Harry had talked about his past, he had only mentioned his aunt, never his uncle – did that have something to do with it?

"Professor McGonagall, what's that?" Hermione's inquisitive voice from behind her brought the Scottish woman out of her thoughts as she turned around. For a moment she thought about what to say, but decided that Harry wanted to protect his actions for a reason.

"It seems that there was a wizard that we did not see in the shop. He did not like that you weren't allowed to buy the books, and did so himself, in order to give them to you." She was startled to see tears well up in Hermione's eyes as she held the bag out to the girl.

"Do…do you know who it was ma'am? I'..I'd like to thank him…" Hermione clutched the bag of books to her chest tightly, as if she was afraid to let it go. Minerva shook her head slowly. She was lucky that Hermione didn't realize that she'd know nearly every wizard except for any foreigners, or else the girl surely would have kept pressing.

Outside the wand shop, Harry was moving away quickly. Flitwick was standing next to a potions supply store, beckoning the boy towards him. As he strode over to the professor, Weiss chimed in.

"Why did you do that child? Already have a soft spot for the girl?" There was only a trace of sarcasm in the ancient tome's voice. Harry hesitated only slightly in his walk before shaking his head slowly.

"No, it's not that. I just..felt like I could understand how she felt right then. She was so _happy_ to have those books, and then she looked like her entire world had been shattered when she found out she couldn't get them. I know how she felt right then, it's not like we've had a lot of money growing up, so I thought that…maybe I should give her what I couldn't have myself." Harry's voice was soft.

"That is surprisingly mature, even for you my child." Harry snorted at that but didn't respond – he didn't want to involve Flitwick in it. The diminutive professor smiled and clapped the boy on the shoulder, having to reach up slightly to do it properly.

"That was very well done Mr. Potter! You'll make a fine addition to any House, though I do so hope you end up in Ravenclaw." With that the pair continued on with the supply run, gathering the things that Harry needed from the potions shop.

_**And END! Holy batsauce I'm sorry this took so long to get done, it just wouldn't stop growing. Next chapter finishes off Diagon Alley with the Wand Shop, a trip to the pet store, and another visit to Gringotts. Sorry, not too much Nier involved in this chapter…but what was up with that dragon?**_

_**-GT OUT!-**_


	4. Chapter 3

_**Sorry for the insane lag time on this story. Things have gotten more than a bit hectic in my life. But here's the next chapter for Grimoire, and the next chapter for Results should be up next week (hopefully).**_

_**Chapter 3: The Wand Chooses The Wizard**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Nier. HP belongs to JKR, anot sure who Nier belongs to at the moment but it isn't me.**_

_**Diagon Alley, Ollivander's**_

Flitwick held open the door for his charge, who was turning around in slow circles as he entered the shop. The lighting in here was low, moody almost, and seemed to be setting the stage for mystery. The short wizard watched his ward take in everything in the room, looking at all of the various lengths of wood along the walls and on the various counters. Harry's eyes finally settled onto the bell on the counter across from the door.

He knew that there had to be something strange about this bell. It was the recipient of the only light actually shining in the room. There was some filtering in from outside, but the only light source in the room was focused on the golden bell. Nervous for some reason, he tensed as he walked forward across the shadowy floor. A quick glance back to Flitwick showed the man just standing back and smiling slightly, which put the young boy at ease a bit.

The green-eyed boy tapped the bell once, then nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice sounded at his elbow. He did manage to clear the counter and land on the other side – impressive, considering the books and other things that he now was carrying in the backpack.

"My my, a bit jumpy aren't we young man?" The man had appeared from nowhere. The shop had been empty when Harry walked across the floor. He was starting to reach for his blade to defend himself when he saw Flitwick's smile. The spectacled boy straightened up and looked at the man who had just startled him.

He was stooped over from age, putting him near Harry's height, but that was where the similarities ended. The man had only a few strings of wispy white hair left on his head, at least from what the boy could see poking out from under his hat. He did have a monocle on his left eye, the golden chain falling from his eye to a pocket on his vest. The man had an amused smile on his face as he sized Harry up, which faded when his eyes locked onto the scar peaking through the shaggy black hair.

"Oh my, Mr. Potter. It is about that time, isn't it?" Harry blinked in confusion and raised an eyebrow, then looked to Flitwick for an explanation. The short professor shrugged slightly, unsure himself what the old wand-crafter was meaning. "Ten years have already gone by in the blink of an eye. Why, I can remember when your parents came in for their wands, met each other here they did. Well, enough of the past eh my boy? Let's get started, you are here for your wand yes?" Harry was now thoroughly confused, the old man seemed to bounce between topics like a small living ball of green goop. (1) He did notice that the man had pulled a wand from somewhere and was waving it at the various shelves around them, pulling wands off of counters and dragging boxes from somewhere in the back, creating a pile from in front of him next to the bell on the main counter.

"Go on my boy, let's start with this one. Vinewood with a manticore stinger." Grudgingly he took the thin white stick from this strange man's hand – he still hadn't managed to get a word in to ask the man his name, had he? - and gave it a wave. There was a tremor in his arm, and the wand shot out of his grasp and embedded itself into the wall next to Flitwick's head. All three occupants of the room looked at in shock, then down at Harry's arm.

"No, I think not. Alright..." The monocle bobbed as the man sorted through several boxes, moving some a fair distance away from Harry. As the man tried to decide what to test next, Harry seized theit is the opportunity to finally speak.

"I'm jumpy because the room was empty when I came in, yes I'm Harry Potter, what time is it about, can you tell me more about my parents, and what is your name?" He spoke quickly, trying to make sure that he had his two pence out before the man started babbling again. The man paused, a cherry red wand in his hand, then turned back to the young boy and nodded slightly.

"So sorry my boy. I tend to hide myself to get a pre-emptive view of the young men and women entering my shop. As I said, it's been ten years, so you would be coming to get your wand. I unfortunately cannot say any more about your parents, aside from the fact that your mother was quite interested in how to make a wand, or other foci. And my name is Ollivander, owner, proprietor, and wandcrafter for this shop. Now then, try this, cherry wood with hair from a unicorn." Harry held out his hand for the wand – and was startled when the wand refused to fall into it when Ollivander gave it too him. After a few moments of this the wand rolled to the side almost like a water droplet sliding off a peaked roof, and fell to the floor. The older male bent down and scooped it up, looking at it with a raised eyebrow.

"Very curious. The wand chooses the wizard my boy, and these wands are doing far more than any I have ever seen to not choose you." Harry grew worried – did this mean he wouldn't be able to use this magic? That would remove one of the biggest reasons he was going to attend Hogwarts. But the grin on Ollivander's face reassured him a bit. "All the better, it should mean that if you get a wand, it'll be quite powerful. Well then, let's see here. Ah, let's try this. Ash with the feathers of a Grand Raven. A fair bit aligned to dark spells, but I should hope you know that dark does not mean evil." He handed the boy this spell, and both were relieved to see the wand not fly away from him. When Harry waved this wand... the windows became pitch black, as if the sky had gone dark. Flitwick hurriedly stepped outside, and came back in with a strange expression. Ollivander frowned and tried breaking whatever it was that had been done, only to be unable to do so.

Then the black over the windows shattered apart, as if something had broken the glass, and light came back in. The wand in Harry's hand grew hot, and he was forced to drop it as if he had been stung.

"Well now, not that one either, but it was much better than the other results. Alright, I suppose..." He tapped his chin, frowning as he heard something rustling for a moment in the back of his shop. The movement stopped, but he was already on his way back there. Harry watched the old man head through a dark doorway, and turned to Flitwick.  
"What was all that Professor?" The short man shook his head.

"I don't know Harry. The sky outside was bright as it had been before, and the windows could be seen through from out there. I have no idea what that was. And as for the issue with the wands, I have never seen the like before." Silence fell as they considered this. Then Ollivander came back, carrying two objects. One was a box, similar to what he had been pulling wands from and putting them back into. The other was a length of wood about one and three quarters meters long, and made from a darker wood. The muscles on the arm holding the staff – there was nothing else to call it, really – were tensed up, as if straining.

"Here lad, try this." Awkwardly Ollivander handed Harry the box, not opening it himself. Harry took the box and opened it, to find a dark wood wand laying on a fine white pillow. The boy lifted the wand and felt a soothing rush of warmth enter his fingers and streak up his arm, a soft pervasive feeling that filled him completely in a few moments. He waved the wand and noticed the tip glow brightly, then a rush of sparks and light shot out, spiraling upwards to form a bird with wings outstretched, beak raised and open. The bird faded, and Harry could see the wide grin on Flitwick's face. Ollivander let out a short gasp, making both turn their gaze to him.

The staff that he had been carrying had wrenched itself out of his grasp and was shooting towards Harry. The boy reacted with the speed that he and Dudley had worked hard to gain, intercepting the wood before it struck him. As his fingers curled around the carved wood, a pleasantly cool sensation rushed over him and settled on his mind. The two feelings, the warmth from the wand and the cool from the staff, somehow blended together. Curious, Harry tapped the ground with the bottom of the staff.

Tendrils of shadow stretched outwards from the staff, curling around Harry's feet, then around Ollivander and Flitwick's. The edges where the wall and floor met, as well as any counters or other objects on the floor, also received a bathing of shadows. Flitwick's gaze was locked onto Harry as the boy's eyebrows shot upwards in shock.

"Oh my. Oh my." This was repeated several times by Ollivander, who was staring at Harry. Finally Filius walked forward to the old wandcrafter and tapped him gently, trying to restart the wizard. Ollivander's monocle fell from his face, which managed to break the old man from his reverie. He turned to the two and frowned for a moment before speaking.

"This is... most peculiar. Uhm. First the wand. The wand is made of holly, with the first ash, wing feather, and tear of a phoenix as the core. Powerful light magic can be channeled through that, most powerful indeed. But.. the strange thing, the truly peculiar thing, is that staff. It is crafted from Rowan wood, and it's fore is... the heart of a Grand Raven, and the claw of a Midnight Phoenix. But for a staff to react in that way... Harry my boy, you are going to change the world." His words were still disjointed and uncertain, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. He waved vaguely towards the professor and student, then staggered into the back of the shop again. The door closed firmly behind him, and they could hear a latch click into place. Exchanging glances, the two left the shop.

_**Diagon Alley**_

"Well this is strange. Most people do not have staves these days my boy, so I'm not sure what to make of it. However, I do know this: Those who do, are powerful witches and wizards, who for one reason or another lost their wand and had to get a replacement. No wand would choose them, but they did bond with staves. But I've not heard of a Midnight Phoenix so I can't tell you what to make of that. Grand Ravens are noble, if somewhat dark, semi-sentient creatures that tend to avoid humans, and most other magical creatures for that matter." Even before Harry could ask a question, Flitwick had already started speaking, his voice slipping a somewhat patient tone, which the young boy presumed was the voice he used for lecturing. The mixed blood man seemed to pause after this, as if thinking, and Harry decided to prompt him.

"And the wand?" The two were now walking down the street, speaking in low tones. Harry was following the professor, as the man seemed to have a destination in mind. When he spoke, the short man blinked twice before fixing his gaze on the boy.

"Ah, yes. The wand is certainly very powerful. In fact, both of them are strange in that they have multiple cores – highly unusual, as each core has to be balanced with the other. Your wand is slightly more common, in that all of the core components came from not only the same kind of creature, but in fact the same creature. And as it was a phoenix, you have the potential to be a powerful Light-bound warrior." Here the older wizard tapped the fingers of his right hand on his left forearm, thinking again. His eyes came up to Harry's and he motioned for the boy to stop.

"Alright. I need some time to think, so the next stop will be Madam Malkin's. We can get your school robes there." When the green-eyed boy saw where Filius turned to go, he blinked twice at how close it was to where they had stopped. But as he looked in through the window as he headed inside he saw something else that made his heartbeat pick up – McGonagall was standing near the window display, looking inwards towards someone inside the shop. Moving quickly, the boy ducked inside.

It was quiet in the clothing shop. There was a figure standing on a small platform, arms uplifted as measuring tapes and rulers dashed to and fro, taking obscure measurements that made no sense to the young boy. He was more than a little tempted to slip back outside and just try to pick up the robes at some other time – this was unusual to a degree that he just wasn't used to. Sure, he could handle magic – Wiess was proof enough that there was more to heaven and earth than many ever dreamed of, but to see magic used for such a ...mundane purpose astounded him.

"Well my boy, what are you waiting for? Come on, get up there next to Miss Granger!" Of course the diminutive professor knew who was in there – he was standing next to McGonagall, who had the bag of books on the ground next to her, her face once more set in a firm line. Harry looked back and forth between the highly amused look on Flitwick's face to the stern Scotswoman's, and knew he had no escape. He trudged over to the Charms and Enchantments Professor and left his staff and backpack with the older wizard. Then with leaden feet he headed to the platform next to the bushy-haired girl that he hadn't expected to see again for several days at least, weeks at worst.

There was a witch on the other side of the platform – Harry had managed to miss her with all of the random objects flying around the figure who was completely obscured on the platform. This woman waved at him with several needles in her mouth and mumbled something as she stared at Hermione's clothes-swaddled figure. Then the witch waved her wand absently at Harry, and a tape measure that had just been hanging in the air suddenly zoomed over to him and wrapped around his waist – the beginning of his own measurement process.

This continued for nearly fifteen minutes – for some reason the single tape measure was being just as thorough on Harry as the approximate dozen that were working on Hermione. The boy still couldn't see anything of Hermione but her hair – which was sticking out at odd angles from under strands of fabric. He wondered just what had happened to the girl to have this happen, when he heard Flitwick ask McGonagall the question that was on his mind. There was amusement in the female professor's voice as she responded.

"She tried copying one of Malkin's spells with her own wand – she certainly is brash and impulsive. Unfortunately for her, it misfired and ended up acting almost like the Rope-Binding Curse on her with random strips of cloth from around this very shop. Malkin is trying to figure out how to undo it." Her voice was more than loud enough to reach the people at the platforms – Harry could see a slight grin on the older witch who was measuring him and trying to help Hermione. Then he heard a muffled sound from under the fabric – apparently the girl was trying to defend himself, which nearly made him laugh aloud.

The tape measure working on the boy suddenly ceased its activities and flew over to a rack on the wall. This left Harry standing up there looking and feeling slightly awkward. Then he saw an opportunity to help – there was a pair of scissors floating near him. He sent a quick look over his shoulder to Flitwick – an almost apologetic look, which made the goblin-descended wizard tilt his head in curiosity, wondering what this precocious boy would try doing next.

He was answered as Harry suddenly moved towards Hermione with swift motions. In a smooth swing of his arm he plucked the scissors from the air, feeling a slight pull as Malkin's magic tried fighting his physical strength, but as spread out as it was the mystic force was no match for the boy's firm grasp. Trying to be as discreet as possible Harry slipped the blade of the scissors under a strip of fabric on Hermione's lower back.

"That won't work dearie, the first thing I tried." Madam Malkin had pulled the pins from her mouth as she saw the black-haired boy move. And sure enough, when Harry tried squeezing them shut, the fabric managed to resist the metal implements quite adriotly. "Cutting charms that normally work on fabric also have no effect. And I'm afraid to try something stronger, for fear that it will hurt her." Harry frowned and began concentrating very, very hard. He needed to try keeping this as hidden as possible, so he moved his body between the teachers and the girl, so they couldn't see what he was doing. Neither could Malkin, who was blocked by Hermione's body.

The two women at the platform heard a low humming – Harry apparently getting down to work. The boy in question was humming a very soft tune under his breath, going with the music rather than with actual words. Hermione felt a strange pressure near her back where the scissors were – somehow cold and hot, yet weighty as well. It confused her greatly – and that confusion spread to everyone in the shop when the fabric wrapped around her suddenly sprang off as if her skin had become toxic to the touch. Harry dropped the scissors and stepped back, ducking his head down to the ground.

Everyone stared at Harry, Hermione turning around to look at him. She blushed at him and stammered words out.

"T-t-thank you. Noone here could figure out how to fix it and I was getting worried." Then she remembered something that completely drove thoughts of being a cloth mummy from her mind. "Hey! Did you see a really rich looking wizard when you were in the bookstore?" Unnoticed behind her McGonagall and Flitwick both choked – the Scotswoman more than the short wizard. Harry merely turned his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"I merely saw you, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, the clerk, and myself." Nevermind that if you were literal enough, he had seen his hand so he had seen the wizard in question – if she was talking about the book gift. "Did this rich wizard do something wrong?" He took a half-step back as the girl shook her head rapidly, making her hair bounce rapidly.

"No no, the opposite! He gave me the books!" She turned to head towards McGonagall to retrieve the book bag to show off her spoils, only for her shoulders to be grabbed by the older witch.

"I'm sorry Miss Granger but with this, you're done here, and it's nearly the time when I told your parents you would be home, so we must be going. Young man, I hope to see you at the Sorting." With that enigmatic statement she turned and guided the girl out of the store.

"Ahem, now that that is done, can we discuss what you want for your robes?" Harry turned around to look at the only remaining witch, who was grinning widely.

"Ahem, now that that is done, can we discuss what you want for your robes?" Harry turned around to look at the only remaining witch, who was grinning widely. He crossed his arms with a grumble and thought for a moment. He cast an eye towards Filius, who merely tilted his head to one side, watching the boy. Realizing that once again the short professor would only interfere if he saw something going on that he thought Harry wasn't ready to handle, the boy turned back to the clotheswitch.

"I'm going to need a set of school robes first off. What's a material that you can work with that will be damage resistant?" Malkin thought for a moment.

"Well, if I had a few hundred galleons we could create you a full set of dragon hide clothing. As it is, for about one hundred galleons, I have enough material to make the over-robe that most students wear, in black-shaded dragonhide." Harry flinched slightly at the exorbitant cost, but Flitwick hadn't said anything, so the witch wasn't trying to gouge him. He bit his lip for a moment before sighing and shaking his head.

"I'll have to come back for that. Uhm, aside from the standard school robes, what about some under-wear, such as trousers, shirts, the like? Maybe a vest?" The witch grinned at this one.

"I actually happen to have the hide from an Ironside dragon, already made into a vest for a boy about your size, with a few charms to ensure that it grows with the wearer. The original purchaser had to default, as the person he was buying it for ended up becoming a squib. That, I could give you for fifty galleons. Any other clothes, the best I could give you would be Acromantula silk robes and clothing, and a pair of outfits made with that, along with the robe, would run another fifty galleons." A quick glance at Flitwick showed that the goblin-born professor wasn't wanting to say anything, so this was still acceptable to him. Harry took a deep breath and then nodded, then paused.

"What about a wizard's hat?" Both of the older spell-users blinked a few times at him. "You know, pointy, floppishly brimmed?"

"Oh my. Madam, I do believe he means something like what Headmaster Dumbledore wears." A distasteful expression crossed the witch's face when Filius spoke up.  
"Certainly not in those foolish colors I hope?" Harry quickly shook his head, trying to appease the clothes-witch.

"No ma'am! Just black, like the robes will be." She sighed and nodded slightly.

"An extra five galleons for the hat, but it will be the best I have."

"Thank you ma'am!" Harry bowed to her, doing his best to calm her down from whatever it was that had irritated her so much. She waved her hand at him as Flitwick brought over his backpack. The young boy quickly dug into his bag and started counting out the galleons. As the stack on the desk grew larger and larger, Malkin had to blink several times, before finally sitting down on a stool that she conjured with a heavy sound. Harry looked over at her confusedly.

"I'm sorry dear boy. I'm.. I'm just not used to young students like yourself coming in and actually being able to afford the things that they want. Normally it's the children of arrogant people like Malfoy head who could get such robes. Students who come in with professors normally make grand claims, but then end up having to get the cheapest there is after I talk to the professor escorting them." Harry looked over at Flitwick who simply nodded.

"It's because students who come in with professors are going to be those from non-magical parents isn't it Professor?" At the professor's nod, the young man simply sighed and looked over to Madam Malkin. "Did the girl who was in here try anything like that?" Malkin thought for a moment then shrugged slightly.

"She did, but the things that she ordered are only barely above the standard, and would only have been a few Sickles more than what the school would pay. Unfortunately I know..." She trailed off as Harry laid another Galleon on his stack of them.

"There. Give her what she was asking for. And if she asks..." Harry grinned. "Tell her that the same foreign wizard took care of the extra." She tilted her head as the boy stepped away from the coutner and slung his bag back onto his shoulders, noting with interest the fact that the bag settled into place gently, as if there were a Featherlight charm on it. When he picked up the wand and tucked it up his sleeve then hoisted the staff, her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "When can I pick these things up madam?"

"In a week's time young lord, in a week's time." Before Harry could ask her what she meant by that statement, the clothes-wtich had scooped upt he pile of Galleons into a bag with a flick of her own wand, and vanished into the back, where row upon row of robes and other articles of attire could be seen. Instead the green-eyed boy looked back to Flitwick, who pointed towards the door.

Outside of the shop, Harry gesture for another privacy bubble. Flitwick guided the boy to an alley between two shops, then cast the charm. As soon as it closed around them Harry launched his question.

"What on earth did she mean by calling me a lord? We never said who I was, and she didn't see the scar like the man in the pub did!" The older wizard sighed and pointed to the staff in Harry's hand. The boy looked at it with curiosity.

"It's that my boy. I told you that most of the time only older, powerful wizards who need to replace their wands can get those. That you have one at your age means that you already hold impressive power. A lord of magic if you will." The bespectacled boy looked distinctly disgruntled at that. He stood silent for a long moment, apparently processing what the professor had pronounced. Eventually he sighed and shook his head.

"You said something about a person who might know more something about Midnight Phoenixes?" Taking that as a cue, Filius dispelled the privacy charm and started them back towards Gringotts.

"I did, good memory Harry."

"Would it happen to be the large man, Hagrid, that we met there?" Harry's green eyes were sweeping back and forth along the alley, taking in all of the sights, still amazed by everything. Something in particular caught his eye though.

"Very astute! As a matter of fact, yes it is. Hagrid is one of the most knowledgeable about magical creatures I have ever met. If anyone knows anything about them, it would be him." Flitwick continued on for a few feet before noticing that his ward had apparently stopped and was staring in one direction intently. "What is it?"

"Mr. Hagrid just went into that shop." Harry lifted his arm and pointed in the direction he was looking. The older wizard followed the outstretched digit to see Eeylop's Emporium. Sure enough, he could discern the bulky frame of the Keeper of the Keys through a window, apparently looking at something.

"Excellent eye Mr. Potter! On to the Emporium then." Without more warning than that, the older wizard set off at a good clip towards the store. The boy looked after him for a moment and then shrugged, before following him at a more sedate pace.

"So, what do you make of all this Wiess?" Harry's voice was low as he strolled past people, trying not to draw their attention. A long moment of silence passed before he was answered.

"It does seem rather strange Harry. Though I am inclined to wonder if this affinity to the dark staff is because of my magic and the fact that you can wield it." No one seemed to notice the voice coming from thin air, or if they did, it wasn't strange enough to warrant a second glance.

"Whether it is or isn't, I am thankful for it. Your Dark magic seems to be highly antagonistic to the magic that they use – I barely charged those scissor blades with power, less than a tenth of what I'd use for a Dark Blast, yet it tore right through the magic that had Granger bound."

"Well, these wizards are unlike anything in my experience. Those I knew used magic greatly similar to my own Dark Magic. It seems I shall not be of much help with your classes." Harry shrugged twice – their signal that it was no longer safe to converse. They had reached the door to the Emporium, and from it he could see the professor talking to the man who's knees he barely came up to. With a deep breath he went inside.

Almost immediately animal sounds assailed him from every side. Cat yowls, owl hoots, snakes hissing, even toad croaks could be made out in the cacophony. The green eyed boy winced and headed towards his escort as hastily as he could. When he reached the two members of Hogwarts' staff, it was Hagrid who spotted him first.

"Well now, speak o' tha devil, 'ere 'e is now. Blimey 'arry, ye've gotten yerself tangled up wit' Midnight Phoenixes?" The boy could only nod. "Well, ye've coom to tha right man! Reckon I know more about them beasties than any other person save Perfessor Dumbledorehimself, great man that he is." Harry blinked at that information and tilted his head.

"Now then. Despite what people think, Midnight Phoenixes aren't evil creatures, not in the "Black" sense. Like normal Phoenixes, they are drawn to 'onourable folk. But they only take to open-minded sorts, who aren't adverse ta dark stuff. They are also right rare birds. Nae even Merlin 'imself could fine one. Last sure sighting was in Atlantis. But their parts do turn up from time to time, to use in potions or wands, or staves. But except for potions, when they do almost no-one can use the things Now then 'arry, pick a pet." This last sentence was said in a completely different tone than the rest of the explanation, completely throwing the young boy off his track. He looked over to Flitwick for an explanation about the sudden topic change.

"Students are allowed to bring a pet with them to school Harry. Owls and cats are the norm, though I do know one family that has a remarkably long-lived rat that they use as a family pet." Amused by the anecdote, the young boy began looking around the store. He fully expected to find nothing as he looked around. None of the kittens on display interested him – he honestly wasn't much of a cat person – and there was no way he'd bring a toad… or a rat.

So he ended up gravitating towards the owls. He passed a tiny fluff ball that was marked as a pygmy owl – it wouldn't be good for much of anything. Next he was forced to avoid a couple of barn owls when one took a snap at him.

"Any advice Wiess?" It was meant as a joke, and the ancient grimoire didn't respond. However, Harry did notice that a snow white owl with black feathers down its left wing had suddenly perked up and was now hopping towards him. When it reached the edge of the cage it peered at him with one eye.

"Better watch out kid. We're not sure what she is, but we do know she's a biter. Won't let anyone touch her." The tone was pleasant as a young woman stepped up to a nearby counter, wearing a full-length robe that had a crest with 'Emporium' on it. The boy nodded his thanks to her but turned his gaze back towards the owl, fascinated by her.

He was surprised to see that the owl had spread her wings. For a moment he thought he saw a shimmer of red in the black feathers, but dismissed it as his imagination. Slowly the owl's wings settled back down.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Harry's voice was low. The owl bobbed her head once, definitively. "Alright, does Hedwig work." There was hesitation, but another bob. Something to ponder in the future. He opened the cage slowly. "No biting or I'll blast you." This time he could have sworn the bird's pupils dilated, but she came out and settled on his outstretched arm. Harry turnd around and headed towards the coutner, where he could see Hagrid and Flitwick talking. This time the smaller man saw him first.

The wizard tapped the larger man on the leg and gestured for him to turn around. The impressively large man obliged, then beamed down at the bird on his arm. He didn't try to stroke her, apparently noticing that when his arm came up she raised her wings up and opened her beak enough to let out a menacing hoot.

"Good choice 'arry! She's a beaut, and owls are right bloody useful. Can carry mail and whatnot." Hagrid turned to the girl, who had moved over to where they were, though she remained on the other side of the counter. "Lass, does this bird have the post-owl enchantments?"

"She does, plus a few others that she had when we got her. We were able to scan her enough to notice that. They do seem to be benign though, but what they do no one is quite sure of." Hedwig let out a self-satisfied hoot, as if she had something to do with the spells woven on her being herself. Harry raised an eyebrow at the bird as Hagrid pulled money out, which made the boy blink in shock.

"Mr. Hagrid, no! I have enough money to pay my own way!"

"I"ll not have any o' that 'arry. This is a birthday present fer yeh, since I'm not likely to see ye on it and I was a friend of yer family. Take good care o' 'er and make sure ta come visit me when we're at 'ogwarts and we'll consider it even." He grinned down at the green-eyed boy then handed the clerk the money. The girl put it into a register, then headed over to another cage that was smaller and picked it up and brought it over to Harry.

"She's your problem now. This is the standard carrying cage we give to all students, and it has a feed tray and water dish inside. Mr. Hagrid here has bought you a month's worth of food, and it's in a charmed container attached to the bottom of the cage to automatically dispense when you set it to." The girl turned the cage over and showed Harry the container for the food, and how to set when and how much it would dispense, and how to refill it. Harry accepted the cage, then looked at Hedwig, who stared back at him with a steady gaze.

After a moment of this impasse, Harry shrugged his shoulder and lowered the cage without trying to get his new owl to go inside of it. She gave a soft purr and shuffled her feathers and tightened her grip on his shoulder. Harry and Flitwick headed outside, saying goodbye to Hagrid, who was still inside the Emporium looking at other animals.

"Is there anything else we need to do professor?" Flitwick seemed to pause in thought at this. A few moments passed before he nodded.

"There are some other mundanities that we need to purchase, a cauldron, some supplies, things like that. Shouldn't take too long though my boy." The two set off down the Alley's main street, heading to a few supply stores.

**Number 4 Privet Drive**

Harry closed the door behind him after saying goodbye to the professor and leaned against it. From where she was sitting on top of her cage, Hedwig hooted at him softly. Her cage was on a precarious balance of objects – several oddly shaped packages, a book bag, some other 'shopping' bags that had been charmed to look like clothestore' bags by Flitwick. All of these were sitting inside a cauldron – no real way to disguise that, it was pretty apparent what it was. Thankfully Flitwick had kept a Notice-me-not charm on it until they arrived at Harry's home.

The young boy cleaned his glasses and picked up his backpack, which contained all of his remaining change from the two hundred galleons that he had taken out of his vault, and of course, Wiess. He pushed the collection of objects into the cupboard under the stairs, not taking a second to glance inside as he snatched Hedwig's cage off of the top then closed the door quite firmly. He looked up to the owl, who was now gripping the rail.

"Come on upstairs girl, I need to introduce you to my aunt and cousin." She churred at him then swiveled her head to watch him as he went around the bottom of the stairs and started walking up. When he was near where she was she hopped from the banister to his shoulder, giving one flap to steady herself.

His aunt… wasn't in her room when he knocked on it. He frowned at that – he would have thought that Aunt Petunia would be here when he got back to talk to him about his day. But as he turned from the door her saw Dudley poke his head out from his room.

"Mum got called in to work, apparently they had some kind of emergency that she needed to handle. She said she didn't know when she'd be back, so not to wait up. Now that I've given the message, can you tell me what's with the ruddy big bird on your shoulder?" Harry gave a slight grin to his cousin.

"Dud, this is Hedwig, Hedwig, Dud, aka Dudley. I wouldn't insult her Dud, just a warning, since she is apparently a biter, and is probably smarter than Polkiss." Dudley snorted in response to his brother's comment.

"Harry, I've cleaned stuff from the bottom of my shoes that is smarter than Polkiss. Seriously, he can't understand anything about why I want to learn martial arts, he just gives me a confused look every time I start talking in bigger words than 'see-stuff-beat'. I know, I actually checked. Anyway, I've got some schoolwork to get done, I'll talk to you later." He ducked back into his room and closed the door, and soon afterward Harry could hear some music – his cousin had an aggravating habit of listening to random songs whenever he was studying or working. It drove Harry up the wall whenever they tried studying together.

He shrugged, not moving Hedwig in the least somehow, then headed into his own room. When he opened his bag and Wiess floated up and out, Hedwig gave a triumphant hoot. Both book and boy turned to look at the owl – who was now flying through the air. They watched her circle around the room a few times – before landing on Wiess, who dipped low as the bird settled on him.

"What the devil bird? Get off of me this instant! I am Grimoire Wiesss, and I am about to make you a roast turk-OW!" Hedwig had sunk her talons into Wiess' cover, one talon actually pressing into the ancient tome's face. As Harry watched this in shock, he could swear that his new pet gave a satisfied and amused hoot, before looking up at him with one eye. In that gaze, he could swear he saw intelligence to match his own – or beat it.

"Uhm… Wiess?"

"What is it? Ak- Get this infernal bird off of me this instant before she decides to relieve herself on me!" The book tried shaking around rapidly, in an attempt to rid himself of his unwanted passenger, but the bird just hooted in a way that Harry would have mistaken for chuckling, and hung on without a problem.

"Uhm, I think she knows you." The book froze near the ceiling – he was now hanging upside down, and Hedwig was hanging from him, her wings open. The bird started flapping her wings rapidly, sending them racing towards the ground. At the last moment the uncannily intelligent avian flipped around and let go – throwing Wiess face first into the ground. That done, Hedwig settled onto the back of Harry's desk chair, still hooting amusedly.

"What… do you mean? How on earth could some fiendish bird kno- HARRY! She's tainted by Shade!" Wiess had floated back up from the ground, the face embossed on his front somehow looking irritated. But as it said those last words, Harry looked at Hedwig in shock, and Hedwig… was staring at Wiess with amusement dancing in her too-intelligent eyes.

_**Until Next time!**_


End file.
